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#no one has tried to get me out of this they've been dealing with each other abd everything else going on
peachesofteal · 7 months
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Speaking about Ghost/Soap/Darling omegaverse... May I bring the idea of Soap and Ghost being alpha and Darling an omega? But wait, let me sprinkle a little of angsty thoughts about it:
Johnny and Simon get to spend their ruts together. Hell, they share a room, and even on base they get to have privacy and go through them with the help of each other, not only fulfilling their physical needs, which are sated of course, but also emotional. Yeah sure, heats are emotional but ruts are too, and they spend so much time together that almost, if not all of their ruts together have been spent in the company of each other.
But Darling? Imagine Darling having a heat every time she's alone. Simon and Johnny gone on some mission, gone for weeks and sometimes even months. Trying to satisfy herself with whatever smell is left on Simon's hoodie or Johnny's shirt. She tries to brush away the thoughts of loneliness and being left out that arise every time she rests in her nest, every time she has to painfully get through her heats without her mates' company.
Hell, she tries to hide everything every time Johnny and Simon come home, smelling like each other and fresh bite marks on their necks. She really, really tries. But nothing escapes those two, no. They can smell that little, slightly rotten smell on Darling, sensing her discomfort and those bouts of anger flaring up, those hints of desperation hiding in a slightly-rotten fruit smell. It becomes stronger and stronger each time she sees how close they are after they tell her that another rut came while they were on base, and her? At this point she might lie and say she's on suppressants. Again, they at least suspect about it.
But hell, the fact that there are always fresh bite marks on them every time they come home, while hers is is non-existent (Johnny and Simon foolishly believe she doesn't wish to be bitten), is NOT helping at all.
And they realize how drastic, how deep the problem is once their leave coincides with Darling's heat.
Except she hides. She doesn't let them in, because they maybe have never seen her on her heats.
She doesn't trust them to know how to deal with it, how to deal with an omegas' most vulnerable moment when all they've known is how alphas deal with their ruts.
Darling doesn't trust them, not fully, at least.
Djsjjd jfc when you said omegaverse I was 👁️👁️. Peach I hope you're having such a good day and I must thank you once more for giving us such beautiful stories, I hope nothing but good things happen to you from now on:)
— 🫔 Anon
Oh… okay, I see you. This is so good! There’s so much to explore here… 🩵
18+ / dead disco omegaverse au (it needs a name but we’ll get there?) / mature themes
The door swings wide, and Johnny is nearly bowled over by the scent. It’s everywhere in the flat, wafting down the hall to where they both stand at the threshold, overcome with the smell of overripe fruit, something sour and tart hovering at the precipice.
It’s the smell of their omega in distress.
But what surprises them both, is along with the burnt tannins of distress, is another smell. A ripe smell, a bruised stone fruit smell.
The smell of an omega in heat.
But their omega doesn’t have heats. You’re on suppressants.
Still, it’s definitely your scent. There’s no mistaking it.
Simon tenses, hackles rising with a growl. Johnny’s hand finds his chest, placing his palm over the older, bigger alpha’s heart soothingly. They’ve just both come off a rut, poor timing all things considered. Both exhausted, they were looking forward to getting home and falling into bed with you, cuddling you close while they both slept off the stress from the op and the remaining… sensitivities.
“Darling?” Simon calls, keeping his voice soft and easy.
There’s no answer. The flat is silent.
“Love? Are you here?” Johnny tries, pushing through to the bedroom, where he’s half expecting to see you curled up in the bed.
Except, you’re not.
It looks like you may have been, at one point. It’s a pile of blankets and pillows, haphazardly arranged with various shirts and other soft things.
Johnny chokes on a breath. The scent is much, much stronger in here, and Simon’s eyes slide closed as he draws a deep inhale.
“Omega?” He murmurs, and to their relief, there’s a small whimper from the closet.
When he gets the door open, his heart breaks. Simon’s body goes preternaturally still, and they both stare down at you.
You’re drenched in sweat, burrowed in a pile of clothes, eyes wide. You reek, panic and fear, distress and pain burning in their nostrils, along with the overripe scent, the telltale smell of a heat. Worse, when you look up at them, there’s no recognition there. Nothing to show that you know who they are to you, or even where you are. Johnny shoves away his panic over your confusion, this state, to try to coax you forward into his arms.
“Hey, there ye are.” He reaches for you, slowly, and your body presses against the corner, head shaking back and forth. Johnny frowns. “Darling, it’s okay. It’s us, you’re alright.” His hand gets closer, nearly brushing you knee, and then to their absolute shock, you snarl.
Simon is conflicted. He’s confused.
Why did you tell them you’re on suppressants?
They would have done things a lot differently, if that wasn’t the case. They wouldn’t have left you alone, if they had known. His stomach clenches when he thinks about the possibility that this isn’t the first time you’ve been on your own during a heat.
“Darling.” Simon coos. He doesn’t want to reach for you. He doesn’t want to pull you from the closet, this safe spot you’ve built, your nest. He doesn’t want to force you out, like his father would have. Like he always did to his mother. His father would have gripped you so hard it would have hurt you, left bruises on you. He would have terrified you, taken joy from it. “Omegas are weak.” Simon was raised to believe. “The lesser. It’s our job to teach ‘em.”
You snort out a trembling breath from your nose, little groan slipping from your lips and you rub your wrist on your gland. Johnny makes a strangled sound in his throat as it happens, and Simon doesn’t need to ask to know what he’s thinking.
Only omegas who have been abandoned or lost their mates try to self soothe like that, scent themselves like that. It’s an instinct, something that happens to try to prevent them from becoming overheated or harmed by a heat unmanaged.
“No, no no. It’s alright, love, we’re here.” Johnny pleads, hand still tentatively outstretched while you stare at his fingers. Every time your wrist rubs over your gland, they both cringe, and Johnny’s body goes rigid.
“I- don’t-” You stutter. You blink at them slowly, and he can see it all on your face, plain as day. The pain. The confusion. The distress.
Simon crouches, just outside the closet. He starts up a soothing rumble, trying to lure you towards him. You lift your head slowly when you hear it, when you feel the subharmonics, the song that sings to you.
“Come here, baby.” Your brow creases, and you rub your face. You look exhausted, like you haven’t slept in days and he wonders how long you’ve been you like this, how long you’ve been suffering. You don’t smell like pre heat, so you must be on the curve upwards. Guilt burns in his stomach. “It’s alright now.” Johnny moves next to him, shifting into a kneel very slowly while you watch him, hazy gaze fixed on the bite marks on his neck, over his gland.
“You’re safe.” Johnny coaxes, and he keeps his hand towards you, but unmoving, trying to show you that neither of them are a threat.
They both work to emit soothing scents, trying to lull you into their arms. You watch them warily, curiously, eyes opening and closing in slow motion as your instincts battle whatever confusion is happening beneath the surface.
It works. You crawl slowly out from the corner, t shirt sticking to your skin, your arms trembling under your weight.
“Good girl.” Simon murmurs. Neither of them move, afraid to spook you, and then you’re curling up between their bodies, rubbing your wrist against your gland over and over.
You tuck yourself into them, head laying on Simon’s chest and his hand comes slowly to rub your back, getting you used to his touch, easing you into a more relaxed state while Johnny smooths a hand over your shoulder, coasting his wrist closer and closer to your gland, trying to scent you subtly and soothe you, gentle you. You whimper when he makes contact, and they both press a little closer.
“Shhh. You’re okay, darling. We’re here.” Simon bows his head, skimming his nose overtop your scalp, and you shift, hands grabbing for Johnny, trying to pull his body overtop yours, effectively sandwiching yourself as tight as you can between their mass. You whine, and Johnny hums in your ear, soothing you by scenting until you’re letting out little rumbles of your own, soft purrs puffing against Simon’s chest, Johnny’s lips ghosting across your sweat dotted forehead.
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My dumbest TWST headcanons
Yuu: everyone has forgotten their name and preferred pronouns. No one is willing to ask after so long, hence everyone calling them 'prefect' all the time
Grim: he is the reason why no dorm has tried to get Yuu to transfer in. They simply do not want him and unfortunately they are a package deal
Riddle: cannot handle spice. He ate a bell pepper once and started sobbing incoherently. Bell peppers are notoriously non-spicy
Trey: has mom hands in that he can handle hot plates without even flinching because he has permanently ruined the nerve endings in his hands from all of the times he's handled hot baking trays without mitts
Cater: has only like 7 Magicam followers because, as fun as his tags are, they aren't great for the algorithm
Deuce: has been told "that's unfortunate" multiple times after introducing himself. Does not understand why. No one tell him.
Ace: the type to never wait for his food to finish cooling. He burns his tongue at least once a day. He will never learn. Nor will he ever actually taste anything he puts in his mouth. Uses this for bets ("bet you that I can eat *insert the most disgusting concoction ever*" "don't...")
Leona: the entire school has a group chat devoted to the most insane places they've found Leona sleeping. Nothing has managed to top the time someone spotted him curled up in a cauldron that the first years were about to use for Alchemy. (Ruggie has tried to bribe his way into this group chat multiple times but everyone is too scared of Leona to give it to him)
Ruggie: the type to dump trauma on you without realizing it's messed up. Jack asked him once "Where'd you get that" and pointed to a scar and Ruggie was like "oh yeah that's from the time a guy stabbed me" and Jack has never asked him anything since
Jack: complains constantly about how big his tail is because it keeps wagging and giving away his tsundere-ness. Wants a little tail he can stuff into his pant legs to hide it
Azul: his glasses are fake. He thinks they make him look intimidating
Jade: will make fun of people for yawning in front of him. ("Scandalous" "????") He refuses to explain
Floyd: bites people he likes. Moray eel bites can cause paralysis and even beyond that his teeth are wicked sharp. This has caused several misunderstandings in his life
Kalim: everyone know's he's coming because all of his jewelry clink against each other. Like a cat with a bell on its collar. There is a betting ring about whether Jamil planned for this or if it's just how Kalim is that has spread schoolwide
Jamil: has absolutely responded to Kalim saying "Treat spiders the way you want to be treated" with "Killed without hesitation". Unironically
Vil: has accidentally cursed his own food several times. Never anything serious, but you would think it was with the expression of utter horror on his face every time
Rook: is the one in class to deal with bugs. He will pull a hairband out of his pocket (saved for this very occasion, or in the horrible case that Vil's hair tie might snap) and snipe the bug out of midair
Epel: constantly tries to get away with breaking rules right under Vil's nose. Out of spite. He has yet to succeed, but insists he WILL. One day. He will not
Idia: has lamented sending his tablet to class several times because he can't play some of his favorite games when it's away. Does not seem to realize that he would not be able to play those games while in class anyways
Ortho: has programmed idle animations
Malleus: his horns constantly hit the top of doorways. The entire room will go very quiet when this happens because they're scared if they breathe they will laugh and they Can Not Laugh At Malleus Draconia
Lilia: upon finding out his true age, the first question he is always asked is how his cooking is seriously "like that"
Silver: will wake up, find a miscellaneous animal sleeping on him, and go back to sleep because he would rather die than wake up the poor thing
Sebek: banned from the school library. There is no librarian so it literally doesn't change anything there's no one to enforce it but he still won't go in on principle
Crowley: has submitted a tax form with simply the word "No" on it. Is not sure why it didn't work
Crewel: messed up a potion once in front of a class. Swore everyone to secrecy about it. It is the only secret that has not spread through the school
Trein: has been called by his cat's name more than once
Vargas: students are often late to things because "Coach Vargas is hunting students for sport again :( ughhhh"
Sam: will trip students he doesn't like over 'loose floorboards'
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ariachaos · 2 months
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Itadori's little sister dating Yuta!
She is younger by year but her older brother talks as if she is 5 years old XD
so when they meet her they are like wtf, and then when they find out that she is dating yuta again they are like wtf
So, how would Itadori react to this? XD
genuinely would be hilarious seeing yuji and choso's face when they realize their baby sister's dating a guy lol
reader is fem! reader
major spoiler warning!!!!!!!!
ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵒʷ'ˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰʸ'ˢ !!
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being yuji's little sister includes...
he doesn't know how to got the time to find a guy, get to know a guy, and get into a relationship with a guy during the few months the two of you have been studying jujutsu.
apparently, inumaki mentioned you to yuta, who got curious about you and yuji, then inumaki just gave your number to yuta and so on. basically, inumaki played cupid with the two of you and things went from there. some how.
neither you or yuta are bothered by the two year age gap between the two of you, and it certainly isn't a crime to date, but when yuji found out you were dating the guy that was trying to obliterate him from the face of the earth, he didn't know how to feel.
apparently, you did tell him, but he just wasn't paying attention to a thing you were saying.
EVEN GOJO knew about it, and yuji was left there being oblivious and unknowing.
don't even get me started on choso.
that man has trust issues with yuta after the crap he pulled on yuji, and he's in constant fear for your life when you're in arm's reach of yuta.
lord have mercy on BOTH brothers if they see you and yuta holding hands.
they're going to cry and sob at your feet about how you don't need them anymore, you're still a baby, you can't have given hand-virginity given away already, and-
yeah you get the point.
yuta gets it, though, since he's also an older brother (it's canon y'all look at his wiki) he knows the highs and lows of being a brother and doesn't complain that your brothers are complaining about it.
i mean, after the stuff he tried to do to yuji, he can't deny that he feels bad about dating you, even though you assure him they'll come around.
don't worry about getting hurt in the mess after the culling games though.
your brothers and your boyfie got your back. it doesn't matter if you can fight, they're not letting you go off fighting on your own (they saw too many things already)
they've fought over who's going to protect you and keep you out of harm's way in the process, but choso ended up winning the fight saying he's the oldest and knows all the tricks about keeping you safe.
(it's a lie he won via rock paper scissors)
when it comes to the gojo v.s. sukuna fight, yuta is evidently stressed, in pain, worried, sweating his life away, feeling faint, and all of the above.
no one can blame him because if gojo goes down HE'S NEXT
ngl you're worried asf too because all this time, gojo's been a father figure to you, and you wouldn't know what to do or how to cope if you lose gojo after losing your grandpa only mere months ago.
yuji isn't any better, but he tries to remain optimistic.
choso is busy trying to calm both of you down while preventing himself from losing his mind each time sukuna gets a hit on gojo.
however, yuta does man up a little and occasionally pulls you to his chest and makes sure you don't see certain scenes because the last thing he wants is to see you cry and panic over gojo's life.
he doesn't like to see you cry, and he'd do anything in his power to prevent it.
quick btw, maki and inumaki are well-aware of your relationship. well, they knew even before you got together because surely someone had to help yuta confess his dear old feelings. the minute you said yuta was shakily texting his friends that the two of you were official.
whenever yuta pulls you to his chest, maki and inumaki are giving him smug looks and smirks, despite the severity of the situation.
however, yuta was unable to hide the sight of gojo being cut in half from you and to deal with a panicking and crying y/n right before he left.
swore to himself he's going to come out of the fight for your sake, even if he's missing a limb or two.
nicknames for yuta <3: baby, big baby, my boy, sweetie, sweetheart, angel, pretty boy, best boy, my lovely, loverboy, my hero, and sunshine.
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radiant-reid · 1 year
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hi cate! this is my first ask sooo i’m nervous to send this tee hee but i love your acc and i’ve got a front row seat on the hot wife wagon 🤪 and let me tell you cate i have thoughts. lots of them.
but what do you think about dr. hot wife stitching up spencer in the ER after a case? like she’s doting on him and bringing him jello and being extra gentle and stuff. and if the team doesn’t know and sees them they’re like 👀👀 “where’d she learn those bedside manners??” “can i get some stitches too?” ok that’s all. i love you and what you do have a great one!! 💖
oh i love this so much and don't be nervous, i love hearing what you think
"What happened?" She asks, walking into the crowded room. Spencer's sitting on the edge of the bed, Morgan's sitting on the chair and Hotch is standing. "I'm Doctor L/n." She introduces herself to them as an afterthought.
Spencer smiles at her voice, pointing to the cut on his forehead. "Someone tried to mess up my pretty face."
She laughs as she turns away to get some gloves. "Well, they didn't succeed." She assures him. "I am going to have to stitch it up, though, so keep your head still."
She grabs what she needs to stitch the sutures into his open wound, standing in between his legs in a way that she wouldn't with any other patient. Spencer, on the other hand, acts professionally and keeps his hands on his thighs.
"So what actually happened?" She asks instead of waiting until they get home.
"I got hit in the back of the head by an unsub and fell into a glass mirror." Spencer answers.
Y/n's eyes widen, but she's happy he's there and only slightly hurt. Being thrown into a mirror could do a lot worse. "Sounds like 7 years of bad luck to me." She says jokingly.
"I don't know." He disagrees. "I think I'm pretty lucky, but I can try it out if it'll help with your assessment."
"Mm, okay." She agrees, carefully working on his face.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" He asks.
Morgan and Hotch's eyes snap to each other, exchanging odd looks as they both silently wonder whether or not Spencer has a concussion because he has never been that flirty. In all the years they've known him, a question like that or one with those implications has never come out of his mouth.
"I'm married, actually." She answers.
"So I'm going to have to wait out my 7 years of bad luck before asking you out?" He wonders with a pout.
Morgan holds a hand over his open mouth, and Hotch starts worrying they're about to have to deal with a sexual harassment lawsuit.
But she laughs, and not like she's trying to politely shut him down. "I don't know. I'm kind of fond of him."
"I'm going to go see if the rest of the team is here." Morgan awkwardly says, getting out of his chair and leaving the three of them in the room.
"Okay, I think you're good." She says, finishing off the tidy stitch. "Did they check you for a concussion?"
Hotch takes his chance to defend Spencer before he says something unusually stupid. "No, he could have one- he probably has one. He's not usually like this."
She nods, taking off her gloves. "Any memory loss, nausea, unconsciousness, confusion, headaches?" She lists to both of them.
"None of that." Spencer denies. "But I did want to ask if I could take you out on a date."
"Yes, lots of behavioral change," Hotch answers for him.
Y/n looks sternly at her husband. "I won't hesitate to send you for a CT scan." She threatens although she knows he's teasing her because his eidetic memory is working perfectly. It also hilarious to see him freaking his boss out.
"Please, if you're going to come with me." He flirts.
She shakes her head with a little smile, pulling away from him. "Sorry, I've got other patients to see. Do you need anything else?"
He stops short of asking for a kiss. "Just some jello, please."
"Because you used your manners, I'll bring you two." She agrees before leaving the room.
"You don't need jello for one stitch and a few bruises," Hotch tells him once he's sure she's out of earshot.
Spencer shakes his head. "I mean, I should at least stay to say goodbye."
Morgan catches everyone else up as they walk through the hospital and towards Spencer's room. "He was flirting with her. Like actively hitting on her, trying to get her to go out with him."
"We've got to see this." JJ agrees, nods coming from everyone else.
"Wait." Morgan stops them, gesturing to Y/n, who's talking to a nurse. "Her."
They look more surprised then than they did when Morgan informed them of Spencer's odd behavior. "She was flirting with Reid?" Rossi asks in disbelief.
"I'm going to go check myself in," Emily declares, earning a chuckle from the rest of them.
They watch as she walks toward Spencer's room with jello cups. "He's not even getting admitted," JJ says, shaking her head in disbelief. "She's definitely into him."
"Go and watch them flirt. It's disgusting." Morgan says, and the irony is not lost on any of them.
She's spoon-feeding him the jello when they walk into the room like he's got broken hands. "Hey, guys, this is Doctor L/n." Spencer introduces them.
"And I'm guessing she doesn't treat all of her patients like this," Hotch mutters loud enough to have them all laughing.
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WIBTA
Would I be the asshole if I pull out of being a bridesmaid for my 'best friend'?
Background: E and I became best friends at 13 and we are both about to turn 43. we've been through a million ups and downs together. She has a crappy family and I became friend, sister, mother, support. In the last 15 years or so she has become a functional alcoholic and I have found it harder and harder to deal with her. I've bailed her out so many times. I've 'loaned' her thousands of dollars that I have no expectation of ever seeing again. I've tried to support her and given her advice when she asked for it (even though I knew she would ignore it) and listened to her problems (for hours and hours as she sucked down wine and got drunker and drunker). When she's not a drunken mess she's an awesome person, kind, funny, caring, generous and soberE was usually worth having to put up with dunkE.
Twice in our friendship we've had fights where it's taken us a long time to get back to speaking terms but there would be a text here and a phone call there, then we'd be back to talking for hours every other day. A year ago we had a huge fight and I decided I just needed to not talk to her for a while. I didn't even feel bad about not talking to her, it was almost a luxury to not sit on the phone and listen to her get progressively drunker as she slurped red wine. I did try the old tested route back to close friendship earlier this year. I would send her some texts when something big was happening or when I came across something I knew she'd like. But I would only get 1 or 2 word texts back. In February there was a major flood in our home town and I was freaking out about my family that still lived there - she was not, I felt like I was more worried about her mother than she was, I know they've got a bad relationship but we're talking a bodies floating around kind of situation. I was making multiple 5 hour mercy dashes with car loads of aid supplies and freaking out seeing these places we spent our childhood just destroyed and texting her about it and getting nothing back. I made a couple more efforts to contact her over the next couple of months but still nothing much back. Around May-June I decided I wasn't going to bother contacting her, I'd talk if she contacted me but I wasn't putting in effort anymore.
In September she sent me a text saying she was getting married in Jan 2025 and would I be one of her bridesmaids. I really didn't want to say yes. But almost 30 years of friendship, I felt guilty turning her down. And it felt like an overture on her part, like she was ready to make an effort. So I said yes and have been regretting it since. We are still not really speaking. We'll like each other's FB posts and that's about it. I mean there's still plenty of time for us to become friends again but I'm pretty much decided that if our relationship hasn't improved by the middle of 2024 I'm going to politely back out. It's going to be a backyard DIY wedding, she won't expect me to be heavily involved in the planning because she lives so far away that I couldn't do much more than turn up for the day and stand up with her. Me pulling out won't leave a hole in the planning so I know I wouldn't be an asshole for that. Where I might be an asshole is I think she would be really sad if I'm not there because I am the closest thing she's got to family, I know her mother and step-father won't be there and it's unlikely her brother will be. But I also kinda don't care because I'm sick of making the effort to be there for her when she's not making any effort for me.
So would I be the asshole if I pulled out of the wedding of my friend of 30 years?
What are these acronyms?
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buddiefix · 2 months
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Fake Dating/Didn't Know They Were Dating Fic's (Part 1)
The following are some buddie fanfiction involving fake dating, or the characters realizing they've been partners all along.
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What If I Fall In Love Backwards? by RedRidingStiles 
9-1-1 (TV)  
"I feel like we should go save him," Chimney said as he and Hen loaded their drunk and injured patient into the back of the ambulance (day drinking and balconies do not mix), nodding his head towards the small swarm of college girls surrounding a highly uncomfortable Buck. "And by we I mean you, Eddie." "Yeah I got this," Eddie reassured, cupping one hand around his mouth before shouting, "Hey Buckley!" "What's up, Hot Stuff?" Buck called back, his eyes holding crystal blue relief as they met Eddie's across the lawn. Eddie tried to bite back his amused smile but didn't succeed when his next words had Buck grinning like a complete fool. "You. Me. Tonight. Wear something pretty." "Edmundo Diaz, are you trying to ask me out on a date?"
 —or—
five Times Buck and Eddie saved each other by pretending to be together and the one time Christopher helps
Language: English Words: 9,879 Chapters: 1/1
baby, say you'll always keep me by hattalove
9-1-1 (TV)  
“Yeah,” Eddie says, and the darkness behind his eyelids takes on a white edge. “Be good. Nice to be married,” he yanks on Buck’s t-shirt, “best friend.” Finally, Buck takes a breath that sounds off somehow, but he laughs too, and that sounds normal, Eddie thinks. A normal laugh. “Sure, Eds,” he says, and there’s his hand in Eddie’s hair again, a puff of breath on the crown of Eddie’s head like Buck leaned in to press a kiss there and then stopped, but why would he stop—“I’ll marry you if you remind me tomorrow.”
—or—
The one in which joking about being married to your best friend is all fun and games, right up until you realize that you're not laughing.
Language: English Words: 8,251 Chapters: 1/1
I Hate Accidents (Except When We Went From Friends to This) by morganofthefairies 
9-1-1 (TV)  
“You should just move in,” Eddie said one night.  They were already laying in bed, Buck’s face half-buried in his pillow. “Where would I sleep, Eddie,” Buck deadpanned, sleep heavy in his voice. “Here,” Eddie said, not entirely sure how Buck missed that part.  “The same place you’ve been sleeping.” Bobby raised an eyebrow when Buck updated his address on all of the necessary paperwork, but Eddie wasn’t entirely sure what the big deal was.
—or—
The story of how Buck and Eddie went about their relationship in entirely the wrong order.
Language: English Words: 7,206 Chapters: 1/1
we could follow the sparks, i’ll drive by markofalover
9-1-1 (TV)  
“Oh! You must be Mr. Diaz!” someone says from behind him, and Buck spins around clumsily, all long legs, to find a woman with a Miss Perez tag stuck to her blouse. She’s smiling politely, white teeth against red lips, and it takes just a second too long to process what she says.
—or—
everyone thinks Buck is the other Mr. Diaz.
Language: English Words: 6,539 Chapters: 1/1
i'd never let you fall and break your heart by autistic_nightfury
9-1-1 (TV)  
Four times Buck and Eddie pretended to be in a relationship so people wouldn't bother them, and the one time they actually were together.
Language: English Words: 5,808 Chapters: 1/1
Say Cheese by S_lycopersicum
9-1-1 (TV)  
"Um... anything left to get?" "Snacks for that girl who has diabetes. Amy, Audrey, uh..." "Abby." "Pfff... I'd remember if she was called Abby," Buck half-heard Eddie say, but his focus was on the other end of the grocery store aisle, where at 11pm at night his ex-girlfriend Abby Clark was carefully assessing two different brands of provolone.
Language: English Words: 4,927 Chapters: 1/1
of bake sales and overdue realizations by brewrosemilk
9-1-1 (TV)  
Eddie doesn’t notice it until it becomes a thing that happens even when it’s just him and Buck, without Chris anywhere near them - but even then, he doesn’t find it strange, or give it much thought. Buck is the one who starts ending their phone calls with a quick ‘love you’ but it doesn't take long before Eddie does the same, often beating him to it. It’s never a big deal - most of the time it’s something along the lines of;
‘Hey, can you grab some milk on your way over? We’re out.’ ‘Yeah, yeah, I got it.’ ‘Great, love you.’ ‘Love you.’
Before long, they’re even doing it in texts.
Language: English Words: 4,823 Chapters: 1/1
the secrets we keep (the ones that spill out) by sparegarbage
9-1-1 (TV)  
The 118 is a close-knit family. It’s not surprising given how much time they spend together: endless hours at the firehouse, barbecues on the weekends, the occasional night at the bar. They’re a family, yes... but Buck and Eddie don’t have to tell them everything. They’re allowed their secrets, really, and it’s not… weird. Really, it’s not. It’s just that sometimes the 118 asks too many questions, and sometimes there’s just no good (or clear or logical) way to explain. Exhibit A: How Buck ended up in Eddie’s bed during a sleepover (and how he’s been sleeping there most nights since).
—Or—
Buck and Eddie comfort each other with cuddles, hugs, and kisses (platonically—or so they think).
Language: English Words: 4,624 Chapters: 1/1
With(out) A First Date by firstdegreefangirl
9-1-1 (TV)  
Buck and Eddie become boyfriends. Six months later, they start dating.
Language: English Words: 10,282 Chapters: 13/13
it's always been you by coupe_de_foudre
9-1-1 (TV)  
“What do I normally get from there?” Eddie asks him, chin settled back onto his shoulder. “The kung pao chicken.” he answers almost instantaneously, having all of Eddie’s usual take-out orders memorised by now. It comes in handy for when they need to get food in quick whilst navigating work and Christopher. It’s not weird. He, unfortunately, misses the odd look that Maddie sends him. As well as the way that Hen hides a snicker behind a cough.
Language: English Words: 8,700 Chapters: 6/6
(Friendly reminder I do not own any of the works listed in this post, and all can be located on archiveofoureown.org)
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starryeyedjanai · 7 months
Text
you and me and a lot of bad decisions
steddie | explicit | 8k | chapter 1: 1994 - i'm only human
read on ao3
written for @thefreakandthehair's summer challenge!
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Steve swears he doesn't know how he ends up in these situations.
One minute, he's applying sunscreen to Eddie's back like a good friend, and the next, they've got their hands down each other's pants, breathing harsh breaths and groaning as they get each other off.
It's true that maybe Steve has been a little pent up for a while. He hasn't had much luck dating recently, and working as a guidance counselor is stressful. He's had a tough school year and even after it ended, there was no outlet for him to pour any of his anxious energy into. Robin was still working because "not everyone gets the entire summer off, Steve!"
All of his friends still have to work and he's disillusioned about trying to date someone new after his honestly awful track record.
Last summer, he dated a woman and she was nice and tried to get along with Robin, but Steve knew she didn't understand their relationship, didn't get that she was someone who would always be in Steve's life, regardless of if he has a partner or not. So things got ugly in the end, because she threw out an ultimatum that Steve readily answered - just not in the way she wanted.
So, he's hesitant to try again because most people won't get it, won't get that Steve and Robin are a package deal, do-not-separate, kind of thing.
So between all of his friends still working and not being remotely interested in dating, he's been a little lonely.
He's been cooped up in his apartment being antisocial because this school year has taken so much out of him that he feels like he could sleep for a month.
The one thing he had to look forward to was this vacation.
The sun, his friends, no obligations for an entire week? It sounded like heaven.
And it starts off fine enough. Their hotel is nice, has a nice pool area that opens up to a private beach.
They all get in around the same time, so they make their way to their rooms to drop their stuff off. They're all sharing rooms because it makes more sense to split the cost rather than everyone getting their own room.
He's sharing with Eddie because while he would normally share with Robin, she and Nancy have finally got their shit together and started dating after putting everyone through the misery of watching them awkwardly flirt for years now.
He and Eddie are friends - he thinks. Kind of. After everything, they have so much tying them together that they kind of have to be. They share all the same friends, they live in the same city now and grab drinks together with Robin and Nancy, they spend holidays together with everyone.
While it's true that they're kind of friends, he can admit that he's a little nervous to have so much time alone with Eddie because they just don't normally hang out alone.
He, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, and Jeff were all on the same flight, but Eddie and Jeff took a separate cab to the hotel since there wasn't enough room in the other one. Steve's cab driver was apparently taking the scenic route because he gets to the hotel room and Eddie is already inside, pulling his shirt over his head, getting ready for the pool, it seems.
"Hey, man," Steve says, dragging his suitcase inside. Eddie's already claimed the bed by the window, so Steve drops his sunglasses onto the other bed and grabs the suitcase stand from the closet.
"Hey, man," Eddie parrots back.
Steve opens his suitcase and starts pulling some of his clothes out to put in the drawers.
"Oh, fuck, Steve, tell me you're not one of those people who unpacks on a vacation," Eddie says, watching him open up the empty dresser drawer.
It's rhetorical, Steve knows, but he still answers, "And what's so wrong with that?"
Eddie just shakes his head and says, "You would be the type to make even vacations harder on yourself."
Steve rolls his eyes. "How am I making things harder on myself? What do you do? Just leave your stuff in your suitcase and dig through it everyday to find what you need? How is that easier?"
"It's less work than making sure all your clothes are perfectly folded and in the drawers," he says pointedly.
And- okay. Steve hadn't even realized he was re-folding the shirt in his hands, but he just likes when things are tidy and neat. What's the harm in wanting his stuff to be tidy?
He stuffs the rest of the shirts into the drawer and closes it.
"Are you going to the pool?" he asks, changing the subject.
Eddie grins over at him, gesturing to the swim trunks in his hands. "Very astute, Mr. Harrington."
He drops trou and Steve takes maybe a second too long to look away. He just wasn't expecting to see Eddie's dick so early on in this trip. Not- not that he was expecting to see it at all, you know? Just, he wasn't expecting it.
"Mind if I join you?" he asks, grabbing the trunks from his suitcase. He grabs the rest of his shorts and underwear from the suitcase and puts it in a drawer - he's not going to let Eddie teasing him stop him.
"Sure, the more the merrier. You know what room Nancy and Rob are in?"
"Ah, yep. Or, well, I know they're on the eighth floor, not sure the exact room number. I told them I'd meet them in the lobby before dinner, so that'd give us enough time to unpack and get settled."
He hears Eddie rumble about unpacking on vacation as he steps into the bathroom to change into his trunks. He makes quick work of it before peeking around the bathroom. This hotel is nice, much nicer than last year's disaster. He thinks Robin working at one of the sister properties back in Chicago is probably why they were able to get such a good deal.
He steps out of the bathroom and puts his travel-day clothes back in his suitcase. He rubs sunscreen on his face and shoulders and thinks about calling it a day. He doesn't really need to put it everywhere, right? It's just gonna wash off when they get in the pool anyway.
"Hey, you wanna help me put this on my back before we get down there?" Eddie asks, holding out the sunscreen bottle in his hand.
Eddie doesn't seem to have the same skepticism about putting sunscreen all over, Steve notes as he looks him over - his arms and legs have that sunscreen sheen to them.
He must not say anything for a beat too long because Eddie asks again, impatiently, "Can you get my back or not? Time's ticking, we're wasting daylight."
"Oh, sure, sorry," Steve says, shaking his head, taking the sunscreen from him. He pours some in his hand and steps closer as Eddie turns his back to him.
He looks at the wide expanse of pale skin on his back for a second before he slaps the handful of sunscreen in the center of Eddie's back and Eddie arches away from him for a second.
"That's so cold!" he says as Steve spreads the sunscreen down his back and Steve snorts.
He maybe grabbed a little bit too much because it takes a long while to rub it in. He rubs harder, trying to make the white-cast disappear.
He hears Eddie groan and he pauses. Did he hurt him?
"Sorry," Eddie says when he realizes Steve's frozen behind him. "That just, that felt good."
"This?" Steve asks, digging his palms in harder. He doesn't know why it makes his heart speed up when Eddie hums in agreement.
It's just- it's been a while, since he touched anyone like this. There's so much skin on display, so much pale skin beneath his fingers. He can't help but dig his thumbs in a little as he rubs, turning this into something closer to a massage than spreading sunscreen. The white liquid has all but disappeared, but Steve keeps rubbing, keeps digging his fingertips into the muscles of Eddie's back.
He can't even say how long they stand there, Steve's hands on Eddie, working his thumbs into the muscles there, listening to him sigh and groan at his touch. He rubs up and down on his back and he listens to the little sounds Eddie makes when he hits a good spot and it- fuck. He realizes this is making him hard.
Now the speed of his heart beating makes sense. He's turned on. He's getting hard from putting his hands on Eddie. All this warm skin, the noises he's pulling from him, it's all doing it for him.
"Everything good back there?" Eddie asks, pulling Steve out of his stupor. His hands were frozen on Eddie's back. The air in the hotel room is cool on his skin, but he still feels overheated in the moment.
He realizes he needs to answer, needs Eddie to stay turned around because when he looks down, he's visibly hard in his swim shorts - they're tight, the fabric pulled tight around his cock, leaving very little room for interpretation on what's going on here.
"I'm good, just stay there for a sec?" He takes a couple steps back, his hands falling away from Eddie's skin, leaving him cold in comparison to the way the warmth just seems to be rolling off Eddie's skin.
Of course Eddie doesn't listen. He never listens.
He turns around as Steve is backing up, a thousand thoughts floating through his brain, the number one thought being am I into Eddie?
He swallows hard as Eddie looks at him, sees the moment Eddie notices. His lips curl up, cocky, and he's looking directly at Steve's crotch.
"Oh? Big boy, indeed," he says, and Steve can't even find it in him to roll his eyes because Eddie can't tear his eyes away.
Steve's never shied away from someone looking at him - he likes the attention, likes having eyes on him like this. When Eddie looks back up at his face, Steve sees the hunger there, knows he's wanted.
And he's never been good at making decisions that don't bite him in the ass, so he steps forward, closer to Eddie again.
It's a bad idea, his brain is telling him.
But he's looking at Eddie's mouth and his chest and his tattoos and his goddamned pierced nipples.
Fucking friends is a bad idea, his brain is shouting at him.
But he's stepping closer anyway, feeling the heat seeping from Eddie's skin once more. He wants to touch him. He wants to put his hands on him again. It feels like all the air has rushed out of his lungs, like he can't breathe through the want.
He doesn't know how to make the first move here, where he's so incredibly unprepared for what's about to happen, but luckily he doesn't have to.
Eddie hooks his first two fingers in the waistband of Steve's shorts and pulls him forward, gets their hips aligned, nearly pressing together.
He looks at Eddie's face and realizes how close they are, leaning in towards each other like this.
"Yeah?" Eddie asks and Steve knows he should back away, knows he should laugh it off, make some joke about accidentally getting hard from touching him.
But Eddie's fingers are still dipped into his waistband and Steve is sweating about it. His brain is short circuiting because five minutes ago he was utterly unaware that he was into Eddie like this.
He had no idea that he wanted to feel his skin against his like this, feel the skin of their chests brush.
Eddie's chest is sunscreen-sticky and Steve wants to get stuck to him.
When they're pressed together, flush from chest to waist, Steve feels him, really feels him. He's hard too. Hard from Steve touching him, maybe, or from knowing Steve wants him. Either way, feeling his cock brushing his through only a couple layers of thin fabric is making Steve's scalp prickle like a shiver wants to run it's way down his back.
"Yeah," Steve whispers, shifting his hips forward minutely and biting back the groan that wants to escape.
Their thighs slot together and he takes in a shaky breath. Looks from Eddie's lips to the metal glinting on his chest. He knows it had to have hurt. Did Eddie like it- the hurt?
He knows his face has to be flushed by now. He feels sweaty and red and somehow Eddie's still looking at him like he wants to eat him. It's really doing it for him.
Eddie takes his fingers out of Steve's waistband and Steve doesn't even get a second to mourn the skin to skin contact there because Eddie is cupping Steve's dick through his shorts.
It's such a tease, just Eddie's hand cupping him, no real pressure. Steve pushes himself forward into Eddie's hand.
Eddie lips twitch up again into a smirk, like he's having fun with this, like he likes teasing Steve, getting him a little desperate.
Steve tries to hitch his hips forward again, but Eddie moves his hand back to Steve's hip, herds him backwards until he's backed up against the dresser.
"Is this okay?" Eddie asks, tugging at the waistband. Steve's not exactly sure where this is going, what Eddie wants from him right now, but he nods. If it gets him touched, he wants it.
Eddie grins at him and shoves his hand down into Steve's swim shorts and wraps his hand around Steve's cock. It's suddenly a lot all at once.
Eddie's hand is warm, but his rings are cold to the touch. He's never had someone touch him while wearing rings before. It's not something he's ever had to consider before, whether he's like the feeling.
He does. There's something about the texture difference between the smooth, hard surface of the rings and the softness of Eddie's palm. His fingertips, when he rubs the head of Steve's cock with his thumb, when he wraps his hand around the length of him and strokes, feel rougher than the rest of his hand, callused from years of playing the guitar, Steve guesses.
He drops his head back and groans at the feeling of Eddie stroking him.
The rings are a contrast to Eddie's warm skin, and every stroke is making Steve want to come on them, get them wet with it. It's dizzying, making Steve a little crazy, thinking about coming on Eddie's rings. That's never been a thought that crossed his mind before, but he can't get it out of his head now that it's there.
Eddie strokes him from root to tip, slow and measured, and the only thing Steve can do is sigh about it, bringing his hand up to Eddie's hip.
He looks at where his hand rests on Eddie's hip. Steve's been sunbathing, for lack of anything better to do, recently. His skin is tan and golden and Eddie's skin is so pale in comparison.
This is all so much. And they've barely done anything at all.
"You wanna touch me?" Eddie asks, pulling him out of his thoughts, and Steve nods. He wants to touch him so fucking bad.
He can feel Eddie's breath on his lips, they're so close. He wants to lean in and put his tongue in Eddie's mouth, sloppy and wet the way Eddie's thumb feels on the head of his cock.
He shoves his hand down Eddie's swim shorts instead. They're tight too, like his, so his hand barely has space to move.
But he feels him, gets his hand around him, and he's- he feels big. His cock fills out his grip nicely, it's thick, a good length.
He breathes out a heavy breath as he strokes Eddie's cock. The tip is already wet, pre-come pearling there, getting Steve's hand all sticky when he rubs his palm over it on the next upstroke.
Eddie moans, sharp and sudden, when Steve's thumb catches on the underside of the head of his cock, and then it's like all bets are off. Whatever perceived notion of taking it slow has faded, quickly.
Their hands are moving fast on each other's cocks, grips tightening, like they're in a race to the finish. Like who can hold off the longest?
And Steve still wants to kiss him, almost feels like he has to. He doesn't want to stand here in the middle of their hotel room and touch Eddie, be touched by him, and not know what his mouth feels like against his.
But it feels like it would be a step too far. Like it would snap Eddie out of it, Steve pressing his mouth against his, trying to push this into something it isn't.
Their mouths are close, they're already sharing the same breath, practically. It would be just a hair of a movement that would get their mouths slotted together for real- he wouldn't even have to move much. It still feels too far a space to cross.
Eddie makes the decision not to kiss him even easier when he dips his head to bite at the juncture of Steve's neck.
"Don't leave any marks," he says, breathless. He can't show up to dinner with hickeys on his neck.
"I won't," Eddie says, licking at the spot he bit.
Steve feels close already and it feels too soon. It feels like they just started and Steve is tensing up, ready to come.
Eddie pulls his mouth away from his neck and Steve whines.
"Just," Eddie says, ducking back down to press his mouth quick against his neck again, his breath warm and damp on his skin. He presses a kiss there and it feels more intimate than the situation allows. "We just- I only have two bathing suits and I can't get come on one of them the first fucking day."
Steve nods. Anything, anything- he'll do anything to get Eddie's mouth back on his skin, his hand back on his cock.
He feels like he knows what's coming, and he sucks in a deep breath, at the thought of them pushing their shorts down, at the thought of them rubbing their bare cocks together. He wants it. He wants it more than he's wanted anything in a long time.
He shoves Eddie's shorts down and lets Eddie do the same to him. He looks down and groans. Fuck.
Eddie's cock is red and wet and Steve wants it in his fucking mouth, wants to lap at the wet head, taste his pre-come. He wants Eddie to come in his mouth, wants to roll it around on his tongue.
But Eddie's wrapping a fist around both of them, his hips thrusting forward like he can't stay still and that's good enough. That's more than enough to have Steve riding close to the edge again - feeling Eddie's cock snug against his own in the grip of his hand.
Their foreheads are pressed against each other as they look down at their cocks sliding together in Eddie's fist. It's like he can't look away - it's captivating, the rough slide of them together in Eddie's palm.
He puts one hand on Eddie's neck, the other hand back on Eddie's hip, pulls at him like he can drag him closer even though they're already as close as they can get.
"Fuck. Can't believe the rumors about your dick were true," Eddie whispers, his gaze still glued to their cocks.
"There were rumors about my dick?" Steve asks, switching between looking at their cocks and looking at Eddie looking at their cocks. The feeling swirling in his stomach is so much, and he's so goddamn close.
"Mhm," Eddie hums. "Prettiest dick in Hawkins."
That makes Steve groan, his hand tightening on Eddie's hip.
"Oh yeah?" Eddie asks. "You like being called pretty? Like knowing people are talking about how pretty your dick is?"
He doesn't know why that's what does it for him, but he's coming, just rocking his hips forward, squeezing the hand that's on Eddie's hip until it's probably bruising, and coming all over Eddie's cock. He looks down again, watches it get all over and that makes him twitch even harder. He didn't know that was a thing for him - any of this.
But watching his come get everywhere, all over Eddie's hand and his rings and his cock makes Steve shiver with the sheer amount of possession it strikes in him. He likes his come marking Eddie's skin. He likes Eddie not stopping even for a second, just stroking Steve through it and trying to get himself off with his come-slick hand at the same time.
The sound of Eddie's hand still going, so wet with Steve's come, is obscene in the quiet of the hotel room.
It makes Steve want to get on his knees. He wants to drop down and put his mouth on Eddie, taste his own come on Eddie's cock, lick at it until the taste of salt is gone, keep going until Eddie's filling his mouth with his own salty come.
But he's still catching his breath, still trying to reckon with all of this, when Eddie gasps this perfect little ah sound and comes, getting his fist even slicker. Steve's straddling the edge of overstimulation as Eddie's hand tightens to work himself through it, his grip turning the pleasant aftershocks sharper, meaner.
As Eddie comes down and loosens his grip, Steve brings his hand up to Eddie's chest and touches the metal going through his nipple. It's warm. His skin under Steve's fingertips is so warm. He tugs at it, pulling a groan from Eddie's mouth.
His cock twitches where it lays, still touching Eddie's, still messy with both of their come. It's way too soon to be thinking about more, to be thinking about again, to be seriously considering getting on his knees to clean Eddie up, maybe keep him warm in his mouth until he gets hard again.
He lowers his hand back to Eddie's waist, moves to rest his head on Eddie's shoulder, and closes his eyes.
"Fuck," Steve whispers into the quiet of the room after a minute, only the faint hum of the air conditioning reminding him where they are.
"Mhm," Eddie agrees.
"We just-" Steve cuts himself off, because he still can't quite believe it.
"Mhm," Eddie hums again.
"And it was-"
"It sure was," Eddie says, his clean hand stroking down Steve's back. It's comforting and grounding, having Eddie's still touching him like that, knowing that Eddie's not going anywhere right now.
The room is actually pretty cold, so having Eddie's warm hand running up and down his back is soothing. It makes him shiver just as much as the cool air on his hot skin.
They have to clean up soon or the come will dry uncomfortably in his pubes, but he takes another minute to bask in it. Because in a minute he has to evaluate whatever the fuck just happened. He'll have to look Eddie in the eyes and figure out what the hell this was and how to move forward from it.
He's known Eddie for over eight years now, and nothing like this has ever happened before - Steve's never wanted anything to happen. He had never even considered him an option before.
It's true that they aren't the closest of the bunch - they never really got the chance to get close because Eddie left Hawkins pretty quick after he recovered from the bat bites. He was out in San Francisco and then LA for a couple years, so he and Steve didn't really get the chance to get to know each other.
They'd talk on the phone sometimes to catch up because they were beginning to become friends before he left, before everyone kind of split up. With Steve following Robin to Chicago and Eddie in California, they only ever really saw each other for the holidays at the end of the year, which wasn't exactly enough to foster a deep friendship for them.
It's only recently that Eddie and his band moved out to Chicago, maybe a year or so after Nancy did.
So they've hung out more this past year than they had in the past, but it was still mostly hanging out with their group of friends rather than them hanging out one on one. They'd sometimes go to the bar after work together to de-stress, but unless everyone else was busy, they were rarely alone together.
He thinks he would know if he was secretly into him, is the thing.
He obviously knows Eddie's attractive - the same way he knows his other friends are attractive - but that's never translated into wanting to stick his hands down his pants. Until now.
Something about the ambiance, the liminal space of a hotel room, being all alone with his hands all over Eddie's back- something about that flipped a switch in his brain.
Because standing here, panting into Eddie's shoulder and coming down from an orgasm he was wholly unprepared for, he still wants.
He wants to push Eddie down onto one of the beds in here and grind on him until they come again. He wants to feel Eddie's cock against him again, in him, maybe.
When they pull apart, he doesn't know how they're going to handle this.
There's still so much want running through his body that he's sure Eddie can tell, can see it on his face.
They make their way to the bathroom to clean up and Eddie helps him, dabbing a washcloth across Steve's sticky stomach like it isn't something totally domestic. The warmth in Steve's stomach isn't arousal right now, watching Eddie take care of him like this - it's ooey gooey squishy feelings that Steve is sure didn't exist an hour ago.
He doesn't know how this happened so suddenly, the onset of these feelings, the rubbing off against each other like they've done it before, like they've mastered the art of dry humping against each other until they're desperate with it, breathing heavy against each other's mouths, lips never quite touching.
But Steve lets Eddie clean him up, lets him dab a wet washcloth over the head of his soft cock, lets him tuck him back into his shorts, like this all isn't tugging at his heartstrings, making him feel something he can't quite name yet.
They don't say anything in the bathroom, but when they walk back out into the bedroom, Eddie grabs his sunglasses and asks, "We still goin' to the pool?" kind of like nothing happened between them at all.
Steve blinks at him.
"Yeah, yeah. Uh, lemme grab a towel," he says before grabbing the beach towel he packed.
They walk down to the pool and Steve claims a couple of chairs while Eddie dives straight in.
It's fine.
The way the water glistens off Eddie's skin when he resurfaces makes Steve think about putting his tongue on him to lap up the wetness.
But it's fine.
The way the sunlight glints off Eddie's nipple piercing makes Steve want to touch it, pull at it again, see what noises he can get Eddie to make.
But everything is fine.
The way Eddie looks at him with hooded eyes like he knows exactly what Steve is thinking about makes Steve a little dizzy with the want that washes over him.
But it's probably fine.
Right?
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They head back inside after a while of Steve being utterly unable to take his eyes off Eddie in the pool, and Steve knows he's in trouble.
Eddie calls first shower and Steve sits there with his head in his hands for the better part of Eddie's ten minute shower.
How does he get himself into these situations?
He hates not knowing what to expect, wishes he had a manual for what to say and do right after you hook up with your friend.
He doesn't know how to be normal about this the way Eddie seems to be able to. It feels like Eddie is somehow accustomed to hooking up with his friends and Steve doesn't know what to do with that. He doesn't know how to handle any of this.
Does Eddie do this a lot? Does he have friends back home that he hooks up with? Does it just mean nothing to him? The way he's able to just walk it off and appear totally normal is grating at something in Steve. He wishes he could be normal about this.
He's spiraling and he doesn't really know what to do.
When Eddie walks out of the bathroom, Steve tries not to stare, but he's only human. It was bad enough at the pool, but he's sure Eddie is teasing him on purpose now, towel hanging loosely off his hips, water still dripping down his chest, his skin pink and soft looking.
Steve holds back the groan of frustration and slips into the bathroom to shower before they meet the others for dinner.
Unlike Eddie, Steve took his clothes into the bathroom, so he changes in there instead of walking out into the room in just his towel like a harlot.
Robin eyes him suspiciously all throughout dinner, like she can somehow tell he was up to no good, but doesn't know exactly how yet. She always seems to know when something's up with him, but he doesn't think he has the words to say anything about this to her right now, or at all while they're still on vacation. He doesn't even know if he'll have the words when they get back home, because he knows she's going to want to know what's going on with him.
Robin's somehow even more suspicious the next day.
They're late to the lobby the next morning to get breakfast with the others because Eddie slips into Steve's bed as he's swatting at the alarm on the nightstand.
He turns around and Eddie is right there, right up in his space, saying, "You wanna?" and placing a hand on Steve's chest.
And Steve does want to.
So they do.
Steve is still groggy from sleep, but he still pulls Eddie on top of him, he still presses his mouth against Eddie's neck, awake enough to remember to not leave marks there. It's slow and sleepy and he comes in his underwear less than a minute after Eddie does, fingers playing with one of Eddie's nipple rings, his other hand on Eddie's ass, urging him closer, closer, closer.
It's good and Steve still doesn't know how to come to terms with that. How is he supposed to go back to normal after knowing how good it can be with Eddie?
They're late because they spend a few more minutes in bed after they both come, breathing heavily into each other's necks. One of Steve's hands is still on Eddie's nipple, thumbing at the piercing - he's pretty sure that's a thing for Eddie, having it played with. And it definitely is a thing for Steve. He almost wants to go again, wants to put his mouth on Eddie's nipples and grind against him until they're hard again, until they're making even more of a mess.
They're late because after they brush their teeth together in the bathroom, Eddie presses him against the counter and puts his mouth on his neck. He puts his hand on Steve again, circles his fingers around his soft cock and strokes his thumb over it softly, gently. He plays with him for long enough for Steve to start to get hard again.
He's inching his hand down to where he feels Eddie starting to get hard again too. He's curling his fingers around the shape of him, wanting.
They only pull apart because the phone rings - the front desk calling because Robin and the others are tired of waiting for them.
They rush to get changed and they make it downstairs and Steve tries to act normal.
The skin of his neck is sensitive and red from Eddie's facial hair, which is now a whole 'nother thing that Steve can no longer think about without getting turned on apparently. Because now he knows what his mouth feels like against his skin, what the scruff on his face feels like against him.
So Robin knows something is up - either because she and Steve know each other so fucking well, it's obvious to her, or because Steve's not doing anything to try and conceal that he's making what are probably really bad decisions.
On the third day is when she finally says something to him about it and he was right- he just doesn't have the words to say anything about it, mostly because he has no idea what he's doing.
She says something because he's not being normal right now.
Because Eddie refuses to eat his ice cream cone like a normal human being.
He makes eye contact with Steve as he licks his ice cream like he wishes he was licking something else. It makes Steve's cock throb, which is unfortunate considering the entire group is together.
"Why are you looking at him like that?" Robin asks him with wide eyes when Eddie is briefly distracted and talking to Grant.
"Looking at who like what?" Steve asks, cursing the fact that Robin knows him so well, that they share a telepathic bond most days.
And- okay, maybe he wasn't being subtle. He can't help it. Eddie's doing it on purpose, lounging like that, looking like that, all spread out and -
"You're doing it again, dingus." Robin's looking at him with judging eyes when he tears his eyes away.
Steve lets out an exasperated noise. "I'm not looking at anyone like anything, Robbie."
She clenches her jaw and gives him an unimpressed look.
"I'll tell you later? Like when we get home," he says sheepishly, hoping he'll actually be able to. Because right now, he has no idea what he'd even say. We just happened to fall into bed together. Oh, actually, that was after we accidentally jerked each other off. How can he explain that?
Robin looks back and forth between him and Eddie a few times before she nods and says, "Okay, but you're telling me everything. And I mean everything."
Steve doubts she's going to want to hear all of the details of what he's been doing.
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This is their last full day here and Steve is maybe having an internal crisis about it. Because he doesn't know what's going to happen once they get home.
He has a feeling he's going to be extremely awkward about it when they get home. He doesn't know if Eddie will want to continue doing whatever it is they're doing or if it'll stop. Because they haven't talked about it at all.
They've just been doing things without talking about it and that isn't really something Steve's dealt with before. Even when he's had hookups in the past, they've established boundaries, called it exactly what it was, and when they were done, that was it. He's never had a week-long extended hookup and he's especially never had one with a friend.
He thinks it's probably going to come and bite him in the ass, not talking about it. Because he's going to get home and all of his friends are going to go back to work and he's going to be left alone to freak out about it, probably.
They spend the last day walking the pier and hanging out on the beach and he tries not to let it show how much he's currently freaking out. He thinks he manages to make it seem like he's a normal human being thinking normal thoughts and not about to spiral.
That night, their last night at the hotel, Eddie pulls a bottle of lube and a couple condoms out of his suitcase and looks at Steve meaningfully.
"You brought lube and condoms?" Steve asks, scrunching his nose up. "Were you planning on fucking someone in our hotel room?"
The thought upsets him more than he wants to admit. He can't imagine coming back to the room and finding Eddie with someone else, someone he sought out and brought back because he wanted to fuck them.
They've had plenty of opportunities to hook up with other people, is the thing, considering they're in San Francisco, and have been going to bars - straight and gay bars - and have been meeting up and hanging out with Eddie and the band's old friends from when they lived out here.
He hadn't thought about it, but now he's thinking about Eddie hooking up with those people he met this week.
It's entirely possible that Eddie could have wanted to take one of them or one of the many people he flirted with back to their room. Why didn't he?
Eddie grins at him and says, "I mean, you never know what could happen on vacation. It's not like I was planning on fucking anyone with you in the room. I mean, probably."
"Only probably? Jesus christ, Eddie," he says, rolling his eyes. He's not going to be jealous about this. He's not. He knows from Eddie's tone that he's joking, mostly.
"I'm kidding. But like I said, anything can happen on vacation, man, as evidenced by everything we've been doing," he says, the first time he's mentioned this thing they've been doing. He lobs the bottle of lube at Steve, badly, but he manages to catch it anyway. "We don't have to use them, by the way. We can keep doing what we've been doing, if you want."
What have they been doing? He wants to ask, wants to know what's going on in Eddie's head, but he also doesn't want to rock the boat. He doesn't know exactly what Eddie thinks is happening, but if he says something, it feels like it would put an end to things early. If this is the last night he has of this, he doesn't want to turn Eddie off by trying to talk about it.
He looks at the condom in Eddie's hand and pauses to think about it. He doesn't think fucking would change anything between them given everything else they've gotten up to this vacation, but he doesn't really want to have to sit on a plane for four and a half hours and be uncomfortable for the entire flight tomorrow.
This is probably the last time they're going to hook up, at least while they're here on vacation so they should make the most of it and make use of the lube at least.
So he says, "I- we shouldn't. Um, there are other things we can do with the lube, though."
Eddie looks at him thoughtfully and drops the condom back in his suitcase. How he even managed to find anything in the explosion currently coming out of his suitcase is a miracle.
"I could fuck your thighs," Eddie says, and a jolt of heat runs through Steve's entire body.
"You could fuck my thighs," he agrees and then goes to grab a towel to lay down on the bed.
The cleaning staff came by while they were gone and remade the beds, so Steve pushes the covers down on his bed and lays the towel there.
He shucks his pants and underwear and pulls his shirt off quickly. Eddie watches him with dark eyes, pulling his own clothes off at the same time.
Steve gets on the bed, turning to lay on his side, facing away from Eddie. He feels Eddie get onto the bed behind him, but he still jolts when he puts a hand on his hip.
Eddie smooths his hand down Steve's side and fits himself along Steve's back.
Steve's already starting to chub up, feeling the hard press of Eddie's body against him. That's another thing he's going to have to reckon with when this vacation is over - Eddie's body is insane.
He never really thought about it before, never really noticed it before. Gone are the days of Eddie being a lanky little beanpole.
With the passing years, he's started going to the gym and his body has more muscle mass than it did before. He's still lanky, but there's muscle there. There's strength and lithe muscles that have had Steve drooling over him for the past week now that he knows just what that strength can do - Eddie lifting him up and placing him on the edge of the desk in their room on the second night here so he could go down on him left Steve feeling shaky and had him blowing his load way too soon.
Feeling Eddie behind him, the press of his half hard cock against his ass, is making Steve kind of regret saying no to getting fucked. It's been a while, and he just knows Eddie would fuck him so right.
He thinks it's the right decision, though - he doesn't know how much more knowledge of how Eddie is as a lover he can take. He doesn't know if he'd be able to survive knowing what Eddie cock feels like inside him, how well he stretches him out, because he knows he would. His cock is wide, fills out Steve's palm so fucking nicely, and feel big when he's taking him in his throat when he's blowing him, so he knows the stretch of it would feel insane.
He feels Eddie press a kiss to his neck before he hears the snick of the bottle of lube opening.
He feels like he should have said something about Eddie having lube this entire time when he saw what was in Eddie's hand a few minutes ago. Because they've been trading spitty hand jobs for days when they could have had the slippery glide of lube on their cocks instead.
Eddie says, "Lift your thigh up for a sec."
So Steve does, feeling a little vulnerable in this position. Maybe they should have done something else or done this a different way, one where he had more control of the situation. Right now, he feels a little bit like he's at Eddie's disposal, like Eddie could do whatever he wanted and Steve would let him.
Eddie reaches between his thighs to coat them in lube before coating his cock. He nudges up closer to Steve, so he's pressed up more firmly against him and Steve lowers his thigh when Eddie's cock slides between his thighs.
Eddie groans, low in his throat when Steve tightens his legs together to give Eddie a nice, tight channel to fuck into. Steve shivers at the sound.
His hand is still coated in lube, so when he reaches around to take Steve's cock in his hand, it's slick and wet with lube, the slide is so nice, exactly the way he does it alone - nice and slick and tight around his dick.
There's a moment of pause where they just breathe together, caught up in it, caught up in the feeling of it.
And then Eddie starts to move.
The drag of him between his thighs is a lot - it's the girth of him pressing against him, nudging up behind his balls on every thrust. He's thick and he feels good between Steve's thighs, would probably feel even better inside him.
He knows it's a little too late to stop and say something like you didn't happen to grab that condom anyway, did you? because he knows Eddie wouldn't - Steve said no, and he knows Eddie would respect that even if he did want to fuck him.
Having Eddie so close to fucking him - the motions are all the same, with Eddie's thrusting against him like he would be if he were really fucking him, his hand wrapped around his dick - but not having him inside him is kind of torture and he's eating his words from before. It might be the smart idea, but fuck if he doesn't want to do the wrong thing right now.
He wants to feel the stretch of him, his hole quivering around him as he bullies his way inside. He wants to feel how deep he'd reach inside him, pressing in slow and measured and considerate like Steve knows he would. He'd want him balls deep, hips pressed flushed against him.
He's gasping at the thought of Eddie inside him, can almost imagine what it would feel like. Eddie's hand around him feels so fucking good - after days of giving each other hand jobs, it's like he knows exactly what Steve likes, how hard to grip him, how and when to play with the head.
The slide of him between his thighs, the feeling of him pressing gentle kisses to his neck, his other arm around Steve like a hug - it's all so much to take in.
He feels wrapped up in him, surrounded by him.
He can feel Eddie's heartbeat against his back with how close and tight they're pressed together.
He comes suddenly in Eddie's hand, gasping, his own hands gripping the pillow beneath him, shuddering through it. Eddie strokes him through it, his slick hand milking the come from him.
It's not the most intense thing he's ever done in the bedroom by far, but this orgasm leaves him feeling wrung out and shaky because Eddie's hand doesn't stop stroking him after he crests through his orgasm, pulling whines from his mouth at the overstimulation.
"Eddie, it's too much," he says, his hand coming down to grab at Eddie's hand still wrapped around him.
"You sure? I could wring another one out of you," he says and Steve's cock leaks at that, still hard, just another glob of come seeping out from the tip. His eyes roll back at the sharp, intense feeling of Eddie's hand being too much on him.
"Fuck, I don't know if I have it in me," he says, voice shaky. Eddie's still hard between his thighs, still thrusting, catching the underside of his sensitive balls every stroke.
Eddie hums in his ear, says, "We'll have to try that another time then," and stops stroking, but keeps his hand on him, cupping him, as he speeds up his hips, chasing his own orgasm.
Steve clamps his thighs together tighter and reaches his arm back to grip Eddie's hair and pull.
Eddie groans, setting his teeth against Steve's shoulder and biting. The edge of pain makes Steve's cock twitch even as it softens in Eddie's hand.
It doesn't take long for Eddie to get there, his come painting the inside of Steve's thighs as he thrusts shallowly and rubs the head of his cock between his thighs.
As they come down, Steve feeling sticky all over somehow, he can't help but think of the way they've come to know each other. He thinks about how intimately they've come to know each other's bodies.
He feels like he knows more about Eddie's body and how to make him come than some people he's actually dated.
He thinks about how Eddie's had his hands and mouth all over Steve, near constantly when they've been alone for this entire week. And how Steve has reciprocated, of course. How his tongue has come to know the shape of Eddie's barbell nipple piercings. How he's come to know the taste of him, the weight of him in his mouth. How exactly he likes his cock to be sucked.
That's not knowledge he should know about someone who's supposed to be a friend, he thinks.
He shouldn't know that Eddie's voice gets gravelly and low when he's about to come. He shouldn't know what Eddie's dirty talk sounds like. He shouldn't know that Eddie still cracks awful jokes even as he's getting his dick sucked.
That all feels like forbidden knowledge, something that he shouldn't be privy to.
But he knows it now. And he isn't sure how he's going to be able to go back to normal once they get home.
taglist (people who've expressed interest in the wip games): @stobinesque @scarcrossdlvrs @cuoredimuschio @steves-strapcollection @patchworkgargoyle @delta-piscium @matchingbatbites @kkpwnall @inairbinad @legitcookie @sidekick-hero @eriquin
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sopiao · 5 months
Note
hey!! i love your writing so so much oh my god. your account is just perfect– if it's not too luch to ask (and forgive me if this is a little long) can i request headcanons with taskforce 141 + masc reader???
reader's kind of distant from the rest of the task force. they all get along with him just fine, does what he's asked to do on missions and all that, but he just feels kind of... absent. nobody really gets what his deal is, but they've gotten used to him. (BONUS POINTS IF HE ALSO WEARS A MADK HE DOESNT TAKE OFF THAT OFTEN... i wanna be cool too </3)
one day he wakes them up, and (to their surprise) tells them that he had a nightmare. this is the softest his voice has ever been and the most he's ever opened up– just. fluff and comfort lolz :p
FIRST TIME WITH FLUFF OR COMFORT!!!
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i’ve always had a hard time writing this kind of stuff but i’m cleaning out my inbox so.. ^^
SORRRYYY IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO GET TO THIS >3<
it sorta implies angst?? like the nightmare is something serious of an issue?? idk
(Callsign will be Anon to make it easier for me ☹️)
Anon has always been distant, keeping some space and never really contributing to any of the conversations x But they still treasure him just as much as each other. They understand that some people just have a hard time with stuff like that or just don’t wanna get into it in general.
Soap and Ghost always makes constant visual checks to see if he’s still part of the group, since he’s always quite as a mouse it’s hard to keep track of him. Price would make sure to save a seat for him whenever he’s a little late. And Gaz would always check up on you from time to time.
They make sure you felt part of the team. Just because Anon doesn’t really have a deep connection with any of them doesn’t make him any less one of them.
In the middle of a mission they all had to sleep in a safe house for the night. A rather small one since they had to share a room together. Sleeping bags all lined up across the room. One soldier found it hard to get at least a wink of sleep. Price’s and Soap’s loud and grumbling snoring didn’t really disturb them since it was practically white noise to him now.
After half an hour Anon finally found the ability to be carried into rest. It was peaceful for a while. Until he woke up violently, body twitched when he woke up from how intense it was. He found that it was hard to keep his breathing under control and try to focus on one thing. Physically and emotionally.
He put this off as a last resort and tried everything to calm himself down. But when all else failed he turned to Ghost beside him. Reaching for his mask and hastily pulling his mask over his head, hesitating before bringing his hand up to shake Ghost awake, he’s a light sleeper anyway.
“What? What happened?” After a second to comprehend what was happening he sat up and looked around, thinking something happened, like someone broke in or someone found them. But once he saw his comrade’s, somewhat, relaxed but worried eyes and stopped.
Sitting up fully and comfortably, he asked if everything was alright. Judging by his lack of response Ghost nodded, immediately understanding and not making a big deal out of it since this is way out of his comfort zone.
“Go on.” He nodded his head, sitting next to him and relaxing against the wall, still half asleep but still willing, very willing, to listen and comfort if needed. Ghost listened intently as Anon began to explain and mumble out what happened in his sleep.
“Uhm.. Fuck— Now that I’m thinking about this, it sounds stupid—” Looking down and fiddling with the edge of his sleeping bag Anon’s interrupted by Ghost.
“Just tell me. You’ve already got me up” He’s probably not the best one for comfort, but he knows he’s trying, not the best with his words, but he’s willing to listen.
It stuns him for a second with his bluntness, but chuckles lightly, knowing that he really does wanna listen. He starts to explain, second guessing himself every couple sentences, but slowly he gets more comfortable with sharing.
Halfway through Soap starts to stir and move in his sleep, making both stop and just stare. Turning around to see both sleeping bags empty, Soap immediately sits up and searches for them, only to see them off the side, sitting together.
“Oh.. shit..” He calms himself down, both Ghost and Anon look at each other before looking back at Soap. He slowly sits up and crawls over to where they are, next to Anon so he’s between Ghost and Soap.
“What’re you two doin’ up?” Somehow his accent is deeper when he’s half-awake. Slouching back against the wall, almost leaning on Anon’s shoulder.
“I couldn’t sleep after.. a.. uhhh… nightmare” Anon was hesitant to explain, wondering if waking up his friends were really worth it, hoping that they wouldn’t make fun of him. Soap just hums in response.
“Nightmare? Al’right. Continue” To Anon’s surprise, Soap wants in too. He looks back to Ghost who just shrugs and nods, silently telling you that it’s up to him whether he wants to share or not.
Before Anon can even start again, both Price and Gaz wake up, both confused as fuck, but following along, dragging their sleeping bags over to him. They were all now wide awake, Price laying back in his sleeping bag, arms crossed, half-awake but still lucid enough to understand stuff coherently.
Anon started to explain again, relaxed to see how supportive his teammates are with how little they really know about him. Once he got to a certain part of the nightmare, the part that really made it a nightmare, his lungs felt tight once again.
Suddenly his mask felt so thick and concrete, he had to lift it up to his nose to breathe. Blubbering out apologies between breathes as they tried not to stare too much.
“Nah, nah. You’re fine” Ghost reassured him through his mutters, rubbing his back to try and soothe him. It didn’t, but it was something. Something that they were there to listen.
“Don’t force yourself if you don’t wanna tell” Gaz nodded, not wanting to force Anon to go too much out of his comfort zone, in the chance that he changed his mind and wasn’t okay with sharing this kind of stuff.
“I’m fine.. fine” Anon nodded his head, realizing how much of his face he exposed and tried to cover it up with his hands so he can still breath. But for those couple seconds that his lower half of his face was open. A large, old, scar decorated his lips, diagonally going from the top right to bottom left, almost reaching his chin.
With something so unexpected being exposed, the fact that Anon even reached out, it made them all alert to watch out for his emotions and how he’s feeling. But what was most surprising for them, was how he talked. It was usually so stern and short, always getting straight to the point. Almost robot like. But now, it’s softer, more warm but sorta confused, he fumbled in his words a little but it was just so different than how he is out on the base.
An hour has passed, but now that all of that is out of Anon’s head, and everything, almost everything, was off his chest, the sleepiness started to catch up to him. In the midst of Ghost explaining how he was feeling and the possible reason for it, Anon was already asleep, snoring softly as he struggled to keep up.
They knew that this was something you’d never do. So it was a sort of shock for him to break his blocked off demeanor. But it made them feel good that Anon even considered venting. Even if it was something small like a complaint or something annoying, they wanted him ti let it out.
(this has been in my drafts for forever T-T)
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drama-glob · 5 months
Text
SPOILERS FOR HELLUVA BOSS SEASON 2 EPISODE 7!!!!
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Let me start off by saying F*CK YOU MAMMON!!!! >:( >:( >:(
Okay now, I LOVED THIS EPISODE because as much at it broke my heart with how much of a gut punch it was that Fizz has been putting up with Mammon for years, the fact that he got his freedom at the end with the constant support of Blitz and Ozzie, who genuinely care about him melted my heart as well. ^_^
I knew going in I was going to hate Mammon (because with how he runs his ring, I couldn't see how he could have any redeeming qualities), but he seriously was a bigger abusive d*ck and was way more blatant about than I expected. >:( Poor Fizz right off the bat with his unhealthy work ethic that he's not good enough and that his value is tied into his work, something that many of us (me included) have been guilty of. I blame Cash for being the most likely factor in why Fizz thinks that way, along with his idol worship of Mammon playing into it. >:( Also, that creep getting in Fizz's head was so messed up because we come to see how genuinely nice Fizz is and he sadly let what that guy said get into his head. ;_;
I'm so glad that Ozzie from the start is looking out for Fizz's well being and mental health, which is also really sad because he has no doubt had this conversation many times with Fizz about not needing to please Mammon and that he is good enough, only for Fizz to insist everything's fine when it's not. ;_; I also had a feeling Ozzie wouldn't be a fan of the Robo Fizzes given that he loves Fizz so much and knows what people use them for, so most likely it's part of the whole blackmail deal/Ozzie can't break out of making them so long as Fizz doesn't call it quits. ;_; I'm also happy that Ozzie clearly harbors no ill-will towards Blitz (which we already saw in "Oops," but it's nice that he knows Blitz wouldn't like the state Fizz is in and needs to cut ties with Mammon). :)
Fizz is just so talented with his craft, but the further pressure that he had actual competition from Glitz and Glam just made things so much worse, but of course Mammon don't care. >:( One of the absolute best moments though had to be the sweet little deaf kid signing to Fizz and Fizz signing back as well as sign his picture, so it was sweet and it helped Fizz's mental state temporarily. It was unfortunate that flipping creep came back and messed with Fizz once again, only adding to Fizz's panic attack that goes into overdrive once he sees Glitz and Glam perform. ;_;
My sadness only built as Fizz spiraled and tried to make himself "fine," but my man Ozzie being there as soon as he hears (from Blitz no doubt) that Fizz is not okay and him not leaving until he can get to the bottom of way Fizz is so adamant about doing this while trying to comfort him was wonderful. I legit cried, as I'm sure many of you did, when poor Fizz admits that he feels like practically nothing next to Ozzie and that without his job and the fame, he'd eventually leave Fizz despite how many years they've known each other and how much Ozzie does to remind Fizz that he loves him for who he is. ;_; ;_; ;_; It's sad too that Fizz has put up with the year of abuse because he felt he owed Mammon for leading him Ozzie, even though that's certainly not true. It really brought it in home just how much trauma Fizz has suffered and affected his mental state. I can only imagine how bad it'd be if he really didn't have Ozzie in his life. O_O The sweet, honest words from Ozzie afterward just reinforced my belief that Ozzie is the best boyfriend and their song "Crooked" was so saturated with lovey-dovey sentiment, I went awwww so many times and shows how lucky they are to have each other. ^_^<3<3<3
Fizz's "2-Minutes Notice" was absolutely incredible, (especially considering this was improv ;) ) and the fact Mammon didn't realize it was about him until the end was hilarious! XD But Fizz certainly proved how amazing he is and I'm sure Ozzie was more than happy to provide the magical backup to really stick it to Mammon. ;) ^_^ <3 It was really cool getting to see full demon Mammon and Ozzie, but it was especially amazing that Ozzie announced he loved Fizz to everyone so that he could no longer be blackmailed by Mammon and so Fizz could be free of that asshole; plus, he already seemed tired of hiding it. ^_^<3<3<3 Although Mammon will definitely come back for revenge on this sweet couple, Fizz and Ozzie get to at least have their peace for now and will face the future of their relationship being outed to all of Hell together. Also, those giant nuzzles from Ozzie are everything to me! ^_^<3<3<3<3<3
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theeoriginals · 5 months
Note
could you do elijah with a catwoman type of reader? she likes the finer things, she's flirty/loves the chase, and whatever else you think fits! maybe they've been seeing each other secretly (like when katherine/elijah were doing it secretly in tvd lmao) OR they meet for the first time (e.g., she steals something from him and gets caught but gets away and she's hints at seeing him again next time) this is so specific but do whatever you want with it!!
cat and mouse | elijah mikaelson
author's note; this was so fun thank u for requesting <3
warnings: witch!female!reader, tension, abruptish ending bc I didn't know how to drag it out more, brief shapeshifting but I like barely touch on it, because it's sort of inconsequential to the story. reader is close with Klaus, but it's purely platonic! honestly could class this at love at first sight, with how I wrote elijah. fluff, just some heavy make outs, nothing too graphic. reader is flirty and confident!! no use of y/n!
There’s an inherent seductiveness to wearing a mask. It’s almost more vulnerable than just showing your face, because you have to rely on your words, your wit, to get the job done. Of course, there isn’t any specific job she’s needing to get done tonight, but she tries to never attend these sorts of things without a personal mission of some kind.
She gets bored, is the thing. 
Even though she's got everything she could ever want and more, she gets bored and she can't help what happens after that. It's a bad habit, she knows. Her friends always laugh, hiding their smirks and smiles behind her hands when they come over and see the newest shiny thing that wasn't there before. When they hear of a shadow that terrorizes people, seemingly at random. 
It's harmless, though. She's never hurt anyone by doing it. She just laughs a little and maybe she stays the night with some of them, and gets what she wants and more. Cures that boredom in a few different ways. 
It’s started to creep in again, that feeling. It’s why she’s here in the first place. Klaus is a friend, but she tries to keep out of his hijinks for her own safety. Most people here in New Orleans know better than to pledge loyalty to the hybrid, because no one around him is safe for long, even his own family. 
That’s the premise of tonight’s party, according to Klaus. Reuniting his family for what seems like the hundredth time. She feels it’s starting to lose its emotional impact, what with how many times he’s daggered and undaggered them, treating them like they’re pets or something. But she doesn’t voice any of this to Klaus, because she’s smarter than that, and she isn’t equipped to deal with the thousands of years of family drama between the Originals. 
It seems odd to have a masquerade ball as a welcome home party, but she digresses. It’s pointless to question his motives, and it causes her more of a headache than anything. It’s easier to just enjoy herself, and even easier than that to try and find a cure to her boredom. 
It's starting to settle in like a fog of some sort, except it's not hazy or particularly tiring, it's more like steam. Like a hot sauna, soaking the surface of her skin, leaving her panting, thirsty. 
So she leaves the relative safety of the open bar, and lifts her chin up, keeping her shoulders in a stiff line so that people move for her, because she certainly won’t move for them. 
She’s nearly through the dance floor when she’s stopped by a firm hand on her wrist, and her arm is extended with the light tug just before she twists around, braced to deal with whatever idiot has grabbed her. 
She stops short at the sight of the man, only half of his face covered by a mask unlike hers that shields everything real about her except her eyes. 
There’s a smirk on his lips, like he’s amused by something, but she can’t fathom what by. “Excuse me?” She raises a brow, incredulous expression hidden by the mask on her face. It’s rather flimsy, overall, but the rhinestones placed strategically around it juxtapose the sleek black dress draped over her frame, making her appear as nothing more than a shadow. 
“You’re not leaving yet, are you?” 
The voice is unfamiliar, and she loathes the thought that a stranger is teaching her with such familiarity. “I wasn’t aware it mattered,” She gestures vaguely with her other hand, reminding herself of the rather loose grip he has on her wrist. “The party will go on without me, I’m sure.” 
The man ducks his head in a conceding nod, but the smirk on his face has done nothing but get bigger the longer she entertains this odd interaction. “You’ve hardly danced all night.” 
She knows he can’t see the twist of curiosity on her face, but her body must portray it anyways, because he’s immediately elaborating. 
“I’ve had my eye on you,” He says, accented voice a lulling drawl. She’s sure it would put anyone under a spell, given the chance. “I couldn’t let you leave without getting at least one dance, and perhaps your name.” 
“Awfully presumptuous of you,” She notes, though she closes a bit of the distance between them, suddenly interested in the proposition. “I’ll give you a dance, but you’ll have to convince me for a name. I don’t give that out to strangers.” 
He nods again, pulling her to him, closing the rest of the distance between them. “Of course,” 
It’s easy to fall into step with him, practically painted against his chest, there’s no real rhythm to what they’re doing, but it’s working. She’s staring into his eyes from behind the shadowy mask, and he’s looking into hers, like he’ll get every answer he wants from them. 
“So,” He starts, blinking slowly like he doesn’t want to spare a split second from them just in case he misses something. “Do you know anyone here, or are you just here by word of mouth?” 
“I’m familiar with the host,” She says carefully, noticing the way his eyes darken with a hint of surprise. “He’s a friend. I do business with him, sometimes.” 
He seems to see the deeper meaning behind her words. “I wasn’t aware he had many friends of your variety these days,” 
“Oh, he doesn’t,” She says, smirking beneath the mask at the short chuckle that leaves him. “But I suppose there’s an exception to everything. It works for us. I’m still alive, after all. Not many can usually say that after dealing with him.” 
The man’s mouth twists wryly. “I can’t disagree with that.” 
“You’ve obviously got something in common with him, too,” She notes plainly, leveling the playing field between them about information they can peel out of each other without really saying anything. “Perhaps he has more friends than either of us are aware of.” 
“He’s got plenty of secrets up his sleeves, I’m sure of that.” 
He turns them suddenly, hand spanning across the open back of her dress, and she can’t stop the quiet gasp that spills from her lips, hopefully muffled by the mask, though the slight twitch of his fingers against the bare skin of her back says he heard it loud and clear. 
“If I give you my name, may I have yours?” She asks suddenly, aware of the song playing for their dance coming to an end sooner, rather than later. “A fair trade.” 
“I am nothing if not fair,” 
She hums, though she partially doubts his words. He’s shown in the past few minutes that he can play any game she plays, just as easily. 
They dip into the shadows for a moment, ducking out of the colorful lights flashing on the makeshift dance floor, and she makes a decision quickly.
She lays her hand flat against his chest, skating her nails along the pieces of his suit as she slides up his neck and to his jaw, moving fast to push the mask off his face as her other hand rips her own off. 
She doesn’t give him time to blink, or get a real look at her face before she’s smashing their lips together, squeezing her eyes shut as he backs her further into the darkness. She twists them just before they hit the wall, relishing in the way his breath is knocked from his lungs. It doesn’t seem to bother him for long, because he’s drawing her back in, sighing against her lips like she’s just breathed life back into him. 
She skirts her hands all around his lithe frame, feeling the muscles that tense under her touch, hidden but not unnoticeable by the lines of his tailored suit. She drags her nails up under his jacket, rustling the neatly tucked fabric, and pulls her lips away from his mouth to drop down to his jaw, flicking a sharp canine against his jaw and delighting in the choked off noise that breaks from his throat. 
She hides her face in the curve of his throat, leaving marks that disappear almost immediately as she makes them. Panting for breath, she clenches her hands where they lay on his waist. “What’s your name?” 
He licks his spit-swollen lips, head thrown back against the wall as he tries to collect what little of himself he’s got left. “Elijah,” 
“Elijah,” She echoes, tongue curling prettily around the syllables of his name. “Elijah.” 
“Yours,” He says, calloused fingers digging into the exposed skin from her dress. “What’s your name?” 
“My name,” She says, pressing her lips to the shell of his ear, smile practically audible. “Is a secret.” 
Before Elijah can even let out his next breath, every point of pleasure she’s got on him disappears, and he’s left feeling abruptly cold. He rips his eyes open, blinking as they adjust to the bleak lighting, and his chest heaves as he looks around for any piece of that mask, or that dress. Strains his ears to hear the breath of her voice, the pulse that drowned out every song playing. 
She’s nowhere to be found. Elijah tries to be annoyed, but a smile grows on his lips and he can’t help but slump against the wall as he attempts to fix his suit where it’s been tugged at and wrinkled amidst their brief burst of passion. 
A smear of lipstick lingers on his skin, and her intoxicating scent drifts in the natural breeze. 
His curiosity is a dangerous thing. 
────── 
She sets out on a familiar path, forgoing her flesh tones and simpering smiles for four legs and a sleek black coat. She covers more ground like this, makes her way to the Quarter and past all of the usual mess happening. No one really looks twice at her in this form– it's how she prefers things, for the most part. 
There's a specific brand of chaos that she's seeking, and she hears the familiar echo of the man's voice as she approaches the compound. If she could smirk like this, she would, but as it is, all she can do is reveal the two sharp fangs that hang down onto the sides of her mouth and pick up her pace ever so slightly. 
The door to his study is open and she sees him pacing back and forth, talking loudly to no one in particular. She isn't sure if there's other people in the house right now, but it certainly wouldn't be the first time she caught Klaus talking to himself. 
He seems to notice her just as she leaps onto his desk, shuffling the stack of stationary sitting atop it. 
"Oh, good, and now you're here to bother me," He stops his pacing, turning to face the black cat sitting primly on the desk. "What is it you want?" 
She stares blankly at him and he rolls his eyes, face set in that familiar glare that's basically tattooed on his features. 
"I don't know why you bother with this," He gestures at her, rolling his eyes again. "The sooner you're in a form I can actually speak to, the sooner I can get you out of my house and back into the Quarter, wreaking havoc on those who have wronged me." 
She can't help the sudden desire she has to irritate him just a bit more, so she bats a leg out and kicks a ceramic figurine off the edge of his desk, watching his fists clench at his sides frustratedly as it shatters. 
Yawning dramatically, she flicks her tail out and perches on the edge of his desk, shaking off the sudden change in appearance as he glares at her, entirely unamused by the whole act. 
"What do you want?" 
She huffs, ever so dramatic, and pushes off his desk, walking around him to drape her arms over his shoulders and dig her chin into the muscles there. 
"I'm bored, Klaus. And nobody likes it when I get bored." 
He sighs, entirely put upon at her dramatics. "What do you suggest I do about that?" 
"What's got you so tense? Maybe I can help with that, hm?" She tries, digging her nails into his skin through the fabric of his shirt. 
"My generosity has come back to haunt me," 
His words earn an immediate laugh from her and she peels herself off of his back, walking across the study to throw herself down onto the couch, laying an arm over her eyes. "Oh, yes, your generosity, which you are so well known for. What have you done now?" 
“Must everything be my fault? It could very well be someone else, you know,” 
She lifts her arm from her face, giving him an entirely unamused look that he dutifully ignores. 
“You know,” He starts again, earning a quiet groan from her that he ignores just as easily. “I undaggered my siblings because I thought they would be less upset with me after all this time. I threw them a party! I gave them access to as many humans as I could!” 
“Oh, I know– how could anyone ever hold a grudge for being stuck in a box for hundreds of years because their brother didn’t want to have a moral compass?” 
He glares at her and she pushes up from the couch, stretching her limbs as she goes. “How about you just let them be mad at you, and you give me the name of one of those people who have supposedly wronged you?” 
Klaus sighs, but he gives in easily, just like she knew he would. It’s why they work so well together. He can’t resist her inherent desire to make a mess. 
────── 
The Quarter is as lively as ever, but the energy is always different when the sun goes down. She likes it better this way, when the tourists have returned to their hotel rooms, scared off by enough local legends that they don’t dare wander too far in fear of being sucked into some magical nightmare. 
She likes when the nocturnal things come out to play, because it means there’s so much less attention on her, and what she’s doing. It makes it easier to get things done, this way. 
She’s nursing a drink at the bar in Rousseau’s, unable to resist the draw this place has for witches and vampires alike. It’s mostly seen as a neutral ground, because no one’s willing to risk a place to get good food and drinks over a turf war. 
She’s been making eyes at a boy across the room, quickly looking away when he catches her eye, hiding a bashful smile in her drink. It’s a fun game to play, and it grows easier with every passing minute to lure them in. Even if there’s something off about her, they can’t resist it. Like a mouse walking straight into a trap, just for a bite of the cheese. 
It doesn’t take much longer for the boy, Ethan, to approach her. He’s got a smirk on his face, and he’s obviously under the impression that this is a sure thing. 
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but,” He shifts, setting his drink down on the bar next to hers. “I saw you looking at me from over here.” 
She swirls the straw in her drink around a few times, looking up at him from beneath her lashes. “Is that all it took? Me looking at you?” 
He chuckles, moving to stand more directly in front of her. “Well, you seemed a little lonely, sitting here all by yourself,” 
She sits up in her seat, smirking. “Are you going to fix that for me?” 
“That will be all, thank you, Ethan.” The strikingly familiar voice comes from behind her, and she instantly slumps in her seat, a wry, defeated smile twisting onto her lips despite how much she tries to stop it. 
The boy in front of her straightens up, defensive at the sudden rejection, but as soon as he sees who it is standing behind her, he backs down. His eyes flicker to her, and she flutters her finger in a wave, dismissing him easily as the man quickly takes his place standing before her. 
“That wasn’t very kind of you, Elijah,” She says, taking a sip of her drink. “I was doing business with him. Your brother’s business.”
“You were a very difficult woman to find, do you know that?” 
She raises her glass to him in a mocking toast. “And yet here you are,” 
“Is that what my brother considers business these days? Usually that sort of exchange was reserved for his closest confidants,” 
“A good businessman is always adapting,” She shrugs, watching his eyes roam her face, committing every part of it to memory. “Did you find me for any particular reason, Elijah? Or am I just honored to have the company of an Original,” 
“You stole my watch,” He says, looking anything but upset. “And a button, of all things. Now, the button I’m less worried about, but the watch is an antique.” 
She hums, eyes narrowing at his easy going demeanor. “You spent all this time tracking me down over an antique watch? Forgive me for my assumptions, but I don’t believe that.” 
He nods, still smiling fondly, like she hasn’t been almost entirely antagonistic to him since their first meeting. “I also want your name.” 
“Surely you know my name by now,” She says, huffing a disbelieving laugh. “You couldn’t have found me otherwise.” 
“I do,” He nods again. “But I want to hear it from you. A fair trade, and all.” 
She heaves a sigh, pushing to her feet off the chair to stand before him, once again practically glued to the front of him. “A man of your word, I see,” 
He hums an agreeing noise. “Even when we have nothing else, we have our word. I’m also not one to go back on a deal. I don’t like loose ends.” 
“That’s a shame, I love loose ends,” She grins widely, earning a chuckle from him that says he’s nothing but charmed. “Follow me.” 
She gestures towards the door, and Elijah is quick to fall into step behind her, though she isn’t sure if it’s her past disappearing act or something else that has him so keen to do as she says. 
They step outside into the humid, but cooling air, and she glances up at the pale moon above them, feeling every bit of warmth from it that one would get from the sun. 
“I’m curious to know how you found me,” She says, looking at him as he walks beside her down the mostly-empty sidewalks. 
He sighs, pushing his hands into the pockets of his suit pants, looking every bit as pressed and pretty as he did at the party. “I thought about asking around at first, of course, but I figured if you wouldn’t even share your name with me, the second you caught wind of someone asking about you, you’d become harder to find.” 
“Smart man,” 
He hums, and smiles. “My brother, his girlfriend, is a witch. I asked her for a favor. You left your mask at the party, so,” 
“Foiled by a simple tracking spell,” She says, putting on an air of defeat that has him chuckling, her following suit shortly after. “I appreciate your tenacity, Mr. Mikaelson. Not many want to play my games,” 
“Is that what it was, then? A game?” 
“Of sorts,” She says, coming to a stop at the steps that lead up to her little apartment. “It’d be quite bold of me to play a game of cat and mouse with an Original, don’t you think?” 
He steps closer to her, eyes narrowing as he tilts his head, examining her. “I think that you seem to know quite a bit about me and my family, but I’ve just barely scratched the surface of you.” 
She steps closer to him, the tips of her shoes hitting his. “I do owe you my name, don’t I?” 
“A deal’s a deal,” 
She echoes his words softly, already pressing up on her toes to meet him halfway. “A deal’s a deal.” 
There’s much less fervor in this kiss than the last, but no lack of passion. It seems to strike them both breathless, and she finds herself leaning into him, wrapping a hand around the end of his neatly knotted tie to pull him in impossibly closer. 
A split second later, she forces herself to pull away, sighing shakily as she looks into his lustful, deep gaze. She whispers her name quietly, watching his pupils blow out as it carries between them. He echoes it back, just as quietly, and she nods, hand still wrapped in his tie, where his are still clutching her waist, keeping her from running again. 
“Is that all, then?” She asks, voice still a whisper, like she’s afraid to break whatever has settled between them. “A deal’s a deal.” 
“What’s that you said earlier?” He sighs, chest heaving with the breath. “A businessman is always adapting.” 
He pulls her back into him, catching the corner of her mouth with his lips before he realigns, barely parting for a second to press repeated kisses to her soft lips that taste like the sugary drink she’d had at the bar. “Besides,” He breathes in between kisses. “You still have my watch.” 
She laughs into the next kiss, and it spills out into the night, making him let out his own laugh that sounds just as utterly besotted as hers. 
He forgets about the watch. But by the time he remembers it, he figures there’s no harm in letting her keep it. If only to have an excuse to see her again. 
249 notes · View notes
fallinfl0wers · 1 year
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They wear your clothes
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fandom: genshin impact characters: xiao, albedo, scaramouche reader type: female, taller than them, tried to make it ambiguous enough so it can be read as reader being chubby too! summary: they've heard of the custome of borrowing clothes from your significant other, usually, a girlfriend borrowing from her boyfriend. since their clothes wouldn't exactly fit on you, they decided to try yours instead... genre: fluff notes: self-indulgent because i can't relate to almost half the posts on this trope (and a lot of other posts with some very specific descriptions on the reader compared to the character...) due to me not being dwarfed by most of my husbandos despite not being the tallest person around HAHA, also, i didn't consistently do this before, but from now on i will put in the tags the gender of the reader on each post rather than just in this section!^^
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Xiao
He's heard of this strange habit humans have about borrowing their lovers' clothes, and at first, he didn't see the appeal.
But as he thought about it from time to time, he wondered... would you like to do something like that?
Listen, at most, Xiao only has about three or four outifts that look exactly the same and he uses them all if they don't get destroyed beyond repair during his fighting against demons, so it's not like he has many clothes to spare, let alone clothes that would fit comfortably on you if at all, considering your body is bigger than his.
He doesn't bring it up not to make you uncomfortable, though. He knows it could make you feel self-conscious.
He has never been truly self-conscious or insecure about his height, though. He thinks it's useful because it lets him be lighter and move faster than others.
But, man... if he hears you say you wish you could borrow his clothes too just for a while, he'll lowkey wonder if you'd be more comfortable if he was a bit taller and his clothes could actually fit on you--
So one day, while you were taking a shower and he waited for you in your room, he saw a fluffy, slightly oversized sweater of yours laying on your bed.
He blinked down at it.
And proceeded to take off his accessories and sleeve to try it on and see once and for all why humans seemed fond of stealing each other's clothes.
The sweater was already a bit oversized on you, so you can imagine... it was very oversized on him.
And he thought it wasn't that big of a deal but then he kinda looked down at himself, felt the soft fabric against his body, smelt the scent of the soap he knows you always use, the scent of you, impregnated on the sweater...
He looked tiny. And felt tiny too, in a weirdly good sense. He felt as if he was being surrounded by you, and since you were his comfort, it felt as if he was being surrounded by comfort.
When you get out of the shower wrapped on your towel, you can't even begin to process the picture before your eyes: Xiao, your beloved boyfriend, wearing your favorite oversized sweater and staring at you while his cheeks slowly gained a pink tone as he came out of his mind.
The moment you try to speak Xiao is already in front of you, gently throwing your sweater on your face so you won't see his expression.
"I... only wanted to see if it was warm. Um. It is warm. Wear it so you don't get sick.
After that day, Xiao sends hints to you that he wants to wear more of your clothes.
It isn't often, but at some point, when he's free and tired and you're not available, he will simply rummage through your wardrobe and pick the first sweater, hoodie or jacket he can get to feel closer to you.
He gives it a 10/10, wearing [name]'s clothes is free therapy and happiness.
And since his own clothes really won't fit you, at least he lets you wear his necklace at times. Plus, he personally crafts jewelry and other accessories of the like for you to wear instead, all filled with protective charms to keep you out of harm's way.
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Albedo
He knows of this human custom, and he was never interested on it, honestly.
He can lend you his lab coat, it's a tight and small fit on you, and he wouldn't recommend you wore it if you were to actually participate in any sort of experiment; if you're ever interested on alchemic stuff, he already has a coat with your proper measurements.
Besides his uniform of the knights of favonius, I think he mostly wears dress shirts and that sort of elegant-casual clothes, always with his lab coat on because he spends most of his time experimenting anyway.
He actually overheard you talking with Klee one day while you were babysitting her when she asked whether or not you borrowed his clothes at times.
And, fairly enough, you sometimes borrow a scarf if you forget your own- but nothing more than that.
Albedo did what he knows best, and did his personal research on the topic: couples borrowing each other's clothes as a form of affection.
He spotted many couples throughout all of Mondstadt doing as much- many of them being a smaller female wearing a larger male's blazers, shirts or other garments alike.
Though, aside from that gendered trend, he identified that the most important variable in this situation was height and perceived weight between the lovers in question--
A conclusion he reached quickly during his first ten minutes of observing, something rather obvious: it is only functional for the smaller person in the relationship to wear the bigger one's clothes rather than the other way around, excluding cases where the builds of the two are similar.
He still quite didn't get why people liked it though.
So one day, you enter your room to look for something real quick, and tilt your head in confusion as you find Albedo wearing a dress shirt that belongs to you and is clearly not his size, staring at his reflection on the mirror analytically while smoothening down the fabric.
You frown, and if anyone saw you, they would see the question marks floating above your head.
The alchemist turns to look at you, and gives you a smile.
"[Name], good evening, how was your day? Hm? This? Yes, it is your shirt. I'm sorry for not asking beforehand, I'll do better next time. I was curious about this 'clothe stealing' thing some people do with their partners... I think I get it now. It is rather... comforting and reassuring."
From then on Albedo will ask you if he can borrow your shirts whenever he knows he'll have to spend a lot of time on his lab at Dragonspine, he says it makes him feel less lonely up there.
He still lets you borrow his scarves, and if your hair is long enough to be tied, also his hair ties.
For practical purposes, he can't simply buy oversized clothes to wear so you can wear them too and feel what he feels when he wears yours, but alchemy goes a long way, so he'll most likely gift you a bracelet, ring, collar or other charm of the like made with your favorite flowers, alchemically modified and solidify to last at least a hundred years intact.
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Scaramouche
He might have a little... problem with his own height, but since he's convinced he's far too strong and amazing, no one can really know it unless they purposefully push his buttons (or look at the gigantic robot he piloted in Sumeru)
He's been around for a while, alright, but to be honest he really never interacted with a lot of couples enough to pick up on these kind of affection.
Probably though, during his time as a harbinger, he saw a couple of recruits exchanging coats before a particularly hard mission while spouting promises of "I'll return safely and we'll be together!" or something like that.
He thought it was just another weird human habit he wouldn't concern himself with because it was ridiculous AAAAND then you came into the picture, somehow broke down his walls and made him feel things he didn't want to feel again
Like attachment and happiness and joy and hope. Ew, what are those? He doesn't want them! (He does tho)
And since you're obviously bigger than him, while you hugged him, he suddenly understood that strange custom.
When you hug him, he feels all warm and fuzzy and fluffy inside- it's a comforting feeling that... well, feels so good he wants to cry.
So maybe, he thinks, wearing your clothes would have a similar effect.
And so here you have him, he made sure you wouldn't be around to see him do this, so he has no shame on dugging through your wardrobe until he finds the sweater you wear the most and puts it on to test his theory.
He looks at himself in the mirror and glares at himself for blushing-
Your sweater... it was soft. And fluffy. And warm. And it smelt like you.
He puts a hand over his chest, on the empty space where his heart should be.
He has no heart, so why does he feel like something just skipped a beat?
He closes his eyes, and he can almost feel as though you're holding him in your warm embrace. And he only puts your sweater back on place when he knows it's almost time for you to return home.
"I'm wearing your sweater today. ...? I'm not asking, I'm telling you. [Name], what's mine is yours and what's yours is mine, I don't have to ask for this sort of thing! ... ...I just want to, alright?! Geez, you just want to know every little thing, don't you?! it's just so comforting... hah..."
Man will let you borrow his clothes if you want honestly, he can't guarantee you'll be comfortable but if you want to, go off I guess.
He'll lend you his hat, especially during rainy days when you're stuck out on the rain.
No matter how taller you are, an inch or five or more, he'll claim you're his umbrella for the day even though you say you've brought a far more comfortable, actual umbrella.
He loves this arrangement secretly, despite how uncomfortable it can get. He's very close to you this way and he loves it!
Man will also gift you jewelry and he'll make some himself too- and if he suddenly has far too many new jewelry himself and leaves it "forgotten" in your desk or plainly on your lap, you don't need to know why! Just wear it!! (please)
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2022. fallinfl0wers.
2K notes · View notes
tetsutits · 2 years
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𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑 — hanma shuji x f!reader
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SYN: you challenge hanma to a round of poker, and the both of you place your bets. if you win—you get his Bentley and $250k. If he wins, he gets to fuck you in one of the private rooms in the back. surely you'll win, right?
CW: toman and bonten make an appearance. gambling. swearing. reader wears a dress. smut. unprotected sex. creampie. groping. pet names (baby, princess, doll, pretty girl). let me know if i missed anything! wc: 3.4k
AN: LISTEN UP! i have absolutely no idea how gambling or casinos work but i did my research and tried my best! this might be inaccurate so i'm apologizing from now hehe. either way, enjoy! (ignore the fact that i changed my fic format again oops)
ty for @megumi-divine and @utahimeow for beta <3 | @tokyometronetwork
MINORS DNI. barely proofread. tr masterlist
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"if i win this round," your eyes never leave his as you make your way to the opposite side of the table, "then of course, I get my share. along with your Bentley—and everything that's inside of it."
you see hanmas face turn stern, lip slightly curving down until it's right back up. he's smirking at you, and you already know that he's not backing down from a challenge.
it's a good thing you don't back down, either.
"alright, and if I win," his golden eyes stare into yours, as if they're looking right into your soul, "then I get to fuck you in one of the private rooms in the back."
a course of whistles and gasps fill the room, and you see rindou give hanma the deadliest stare possible. a rush of adrenaline fills your body and you feel your knees weaken.
you half expected him to ask for something materialistic—something that has to do with money or expensive items. but to your shock (well, not so much, actually), he'd rather get his dick wet over anything he could possibly have.
you smile at him, and he follows the movement of your perfectly glossed lips as you point to the table and say, "that's a deal then. shall we?"
you ignore the looks and shocked faces of the executives, and let it pass as just a playful round of poker. surely, you'll win. . . right?
and so it begins, you and hanma decide it'll only be one round. no repeats, no second chances, whoever wins gets what they've already decided on prior to the round.
being in these types of places isn't something new to you—casinos, high-end bars and clubs—they're places you frequent with bonten. but there are times where you don't like to involve yourself with their business.
toman and bonten, they regularly meet for business and events. but the two gangs have been rivaling each other for the longest time. they haven't been at each other's throats, they never purposely go out of their way to hurt the other gang—but at the same time, they aren't exactly friends .
you sit right in the middle, between the two. yes, you technically 'belong' to bonten, but you find a certain member of toman interesting. so you never miss out on the opportunity to come along when bonten is meeting with toman.
all because you want to see hanma.
(he wants to see you, too.)
you've been taught how to play poker, but you've never taken it as seriously as they have.
as the round goes on, rindou's eyes never leave yours, he watches like a hawk the entire time, and if you weren't so focused on winning, then you would have told him off.
on the other hand, the way hanma looks so confident and unbothered makes your blood boil. it's not that he's playing carelessly—he isn't. he plays with full concentration but at the same time doesn't look like he's putting much effort at all.
the sight of him, so well put together in his suit, hair perfectly styled, and his demeanor so calm and collected—it makes your thighs squeeze together and you feel warm heat pool inside you.
"what's goin thru that pretty little head of yours, hm?"
your eye snap up to meet his hazy, golden ones. the dim lighting of the casino makes it look like his orbs are glowing, the earring he wears glistens and swings as he moves.
"nothing," you smirk at him from across the table, "i'm just thinking of that Bentley of yours and the $250k that sits in the trunk of it."
you've never seen a man's smile drop so fast in your life. it made the smirk on your lips linger, proud of the subtle reaction he was giving you.
the hand that sits on the table tightens into a fist, and you think you see his veins through this skin.
"oh, yeah? and how would you know that i've got that much money in the back of my car?" he asks, tone neutral but his lips slightly turn up at the corners of his mouth.
you stare at your chips that are stacked on the table, each one varying with value. if you go all in—you could possibly risk losing the entire round and let hanma have his way. but even if you do play safe—you never know what kind of tricks he has up his sleeve.
and one thing that you do know, is that hanma will do anything to get what he wants.
"i guess you can say that i have my sources." you wink back at him.
as the game goes on, you notice his eyes lingering on you—tracing your body in the silky, black dress that you wear. he feels his pants become unbearably uncomfortable at the sight of you, the way your tits sit nice and pretty, the way your neck is a blank canvas all ready for him to mark up with dark bruises and love bites.
and it would all be simply his if he won this round.
mikey and some of the bonten executives are off somewhere finalizing deals and speaking to other gangs here—but rindou has not once left your side. he goes as far as placing a hand on your shoulder while you play.
"you really don't need to babysit me, y'know," you turn to him, speaking quietly enough that it's only you two that can hear, "i'll be fine alone."
rindou's brows furrow but he doesn't say anything, he's always been a little protective of you so this behavior isn't something foreign. instead, he pulls away but speaks right into your ear.
"it's not that i don't trust you," he says as his eyes flick over to hanma's, "i don't trust him."
if hanma can hear, he's definitely ignoring him.
"you can go, and i'll find you once we're done." he finally lets out, giving you a curt nod.
it's obvious he doesn't want to leave, but at the same time he wants to respect your wishes. reluctantly, rindou spares one more glare hanma's way and then slowly takes his leave.
the game goes on, and you feel your palms become even more sweatier by the second. the air feels thick, and anxiety swims through your blood.
opposite of you, hanma pulls out a cigar, lighting it, taking a long drag as he watches you.
the glowing lights create an atmosphere around the two of you that makes it seem like nobody else exists here. the world stills. it's just you, hanma, and this little game of poker.
you must be too absorbed in the game because he laughs, and you think it's the first time that you see his pearly white teeth as he throws his head back slightly, "c'mon, pretty girl, don't be so tense. this is all fun and games, right?"
you pout, mostly because you're frustrated with the way the round is going. you'd been so
sure that you made the right moves in order to be on the winning path—but then again, anyone that plays with hanma shuji should know that their fate is set in stone the second the round begins.
at some point in the round you find yourself at a disadvantage.
hanma is making moves that you'd think would be better for you — but instead it's giving him the upper hand.
your leg bounces under the table, but your face remains stoic in an effect to conceal his true effect on you.
hanma makes move after move, each one calculated precisely. he makes sure that whatever he does—it'll be in his advantage in the end.
as much as you try to counter him, you conclude that your best efforts don't compare to his natural skills. he knows too much—too many tricks, too many ways to get himself out of a situation.
you're like a puppet on a string that he controls. even if he's playing against you, it seems as if he has been pulling certain strings this whole time, jeopardizing every single one of your movements.
before you know it, the round is over. it's inevitable—you think. but now you're doubting yourself and your confidence as you register the results of the round. you stare at the chips, the cash and the drinks sprawled out on the table—and you try to recall where you went wrong but nothing comes to mind.
you sit there, shocked and unable to say anything. you've lost—but a part of you doesn't seem to be upset about that fact. yes, you could have come home with a shit ton of money and a brand new car—but you find yourself already slowly accepting your defeat.
you know you could get anything you want, anyway. but you play for the fun, you play for the thrill of it you play for the rush of adrenaline you get every time you place a chip down.
you're snapped out of your daydream when you hear hanma whistle, loud and long. he has a grin on his face that makes you scowl in return. the taste of losing is bitter in your mouth.
"i think we already knew this was going to happen, princess." he says, tone low and deep.
you sit back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest, he follows the movement with his eyes, shamelessly eyeing your chest, "you must've cheated somewhere, y-you cant just win that easily. i've nev—"
"i've won fair and square." he cuts you off. "no need to make excuses. and for the record, no, actually, i didn't cheat."
you pinch the bridge of your nose. your palms are clenched in a tight fist under the table. hanma brings out an anger inside you that you've never even known you harbored.
he leans forward, large body towering over the table. he's close enough that if he whispers you'd be able to hear him, "i think you owe me, pretty girl."
you bite the inside of your mouth to keep yourself from saying anything, and you think you taste blood. he's not wrong, you do technically owe him something. but at the same time, you're not mad at how this round has ended.
hanma gets up from where he was sitting, dusting off his pants, and making his way over to you.
he stands looming over you, looking down as he reaches his hand out, "shall we?" he says mockingly, repeating the same words you told him earlier.
you look up at him through your lashes, and he swears he feels his dick get even harder from the sight.
"don't keep me waiting, doll," he says, a slight smile to his lips.
you give in to him, you just got a free chance to fuck Japans 2nd most dangerous criminal. the same one you've been pining after for the longest time.
you take his hand and he leads you away from the table and crowd. you catch rindou's shocked eyes as you're walking hand in hand with hanma.
“w-where are we going?” you ask in a hurry, ignoring the stares that you're getting from the onlookers.
hanma doesn't look back at you, but he keeps the grip on your hand firm, “i'm not actually taking you to the private rooms. that's where all the ugly business goes down.”
he leads you through the tables and the crowd, taking you all the way to the bathrooms that are located at the corner of the casino.
“you're fucking me in the bathroom? are you serious?”
he pauses, looks back at you but doesn't let go of your hand, “well would you rather me fuck you in front of all the other executives? have them watch as you take my cock right in front of them?”
you're shocked into silence. mouth opening and closing, but no words come out. “I—no. no i wouldn't.” you look away from his unwavering gaze, and suddenly you feel so small compared to him. “could you just hurry up?"
he chuckles, deep and gravely, “impatient, are we?”
you scowl at him, and it just makes his grin even wider.
you enter the empty bathroom, and the second the door closes he turns to you and asks, “there's still time to back out if you don't want this. it was just a silly bet and i'm not pressuring you to do this.”
you feel his hot breath as he traps you between him and the door, he's looking down at you, but you don't think you could handle meeting his eyes.
in a small voice, you tell him, “I'm sure. i-i want this.”
he brings one hand to your face, his other is placed sturdily against the door. his thumb traces over your lips and he pulls the bottom one out, keeping you from biting and playing with it.
“may i?” he almost whispers. you can't bring yourself to say anything, so you give him the green light by nodding in return.
his lips are soft when they meet yours. they move perfectly as if they were always meant to be slotted against them. he sucks and bites your lower lip and your bring your hands to grip the front of his suit—pulling him even closer to you.
his body presses on to yours, and you think you feel him everywhere. he overwhelms your senses—towering over you with his height and his broad shoulders.
his tongue slips into your mouth with no warning, exploring and swiping over yours. his hands are wandering all over you, groping and touching—and you already feel your panties starting to dampen. you can feel him everywhere around you, like he's the only thing that exists in this moment.
“fuck, you don't know how long i've wanted to do this,” he says, squeezing your ass through your dress.
“hanma,” you whisper, you don't know why you're saying his name, but he sure loves it.
you tug at the hair at the base of his nape, and it brings out a deep groan from his throat.
“fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?”
you sigh in satisfaction when he starts kissing down the column of your neck, marking and leaving dark bruises all around the sensitive skin.
“shuji, please,” you whine, its uncomfortable how your panties are soaked at this point. your thighs rub together to ease the ache that's built in your core.
he buries is face even deeper into your neck once he hears his first name, the hold he has on the back of your thighs almost hurts from how hard he's gripping you.
“tell me what you need, use your words like a big girl.”
you feel hot heat rush up to your face, and you shy away from his gaze, “please just fuck me . .” you say quietly.
“Mm, can't hear you. you're gonna have to speak up, doll.”
he's teasing. you know he's teasing you. and you squirm in his hold, "s-shut up! can you just fuck me already?" you huff out.
his smirk deepens, like it seems that he's got you exactly where he wants you, "only 'cause you asked so nicely, princess,"
his large palms make their way to the bottom of your dress, and he looks up at you wordlessly asking for permission.
he yanks the fabric up over your waist once you nod, and sighs deeply at the sight of your bare legs. he massages your thighs and hands smooth over the skin, “you've been hiding this from me this entire time?”
you swallow the lump in your throat, “you never really payed attention to me whenever i came along to meetings a-and stuff.”
his eyes widen like he's shocked, and pulls away to look at your face, “you fuckin’ serious?”
you pause, and you meet his eyes in shock, “no, i don't know. . . i almost gave up on trying to reach you,”
“c’mere,” he says, leading you to the mirror, bending you slightly over the counter as he stands behind you.
“i would see you all the time, sitting all pretty in those little dresses of yours,” he looks at you through the mirror, moving your hair to the side, “and it would take everything inside me to keep it together.”
he kisses the back of your neck, and his arms move forward to grope your tits through the fabric, “i think i could die a happy man right now.”
you smile shyly at his words, and push your hips backwards so your ass meets the front of his slacks. you rub yourself against him, feeling his hard cock stiffen at the touch.
“shuji, what're you waiting for?”
he drops his head on your shoulder, and you hear the zipper of his slacks. soon enough, his cock is freed from the confines of his pants.
one of his hands come up to rub you through your panties, "already this wet for me?" he runs two long fingers through your wet folds, collecting the slick that continues to drip out of you.
“ah—fuck! feels so good,”
he smirks at you through the mirror, and you shudder when they run over your swollen bud. the bundle of nerves aching in need for stimulation makes you jump when he massages a certain spot.
“fuck, baby, i cant wait any longer,” he groans, holding your hips in place, “need to be inside you, now,”
you do him a favor and reach behind you where his leaking cock is, you wrap your hand around it, slowly stroking him as you angle your hips.
“c-could you—”
the air is suddenly knocked out of your lungs when he pushes inside you with no warning, you gasp as you feel the burning stretch of your walls.
“shit—slow down!”
he buries his face in your neck and starts a grueling pace, wasting no time at all. the force of his hips has you weak in the knees and if he weren't holding you so tight, you think you'd be a puddle on the floor.
“so fuckin’ perfect for me,” he bites your bare shoulder, muffling his groans.
"a-ah, shuji!"
"fuck—ive waited so long for this," he huffs out, hips snapping right back into you at an unforgiving pace, "to fuck you until you were cryin' on my cock" he laughs in your neck, the hot air tickling the hairs on your nape.
he hits a spot that has you seeing stars, your breath caught in your throat, and you try so, so hard to keep quiet, but with the way he's fucking you right now—you bet everyone loitering around near the bathrooms could hear everything.
“fuck—!” you cry out, the tears building in the corners of your eyes.
"look at you," he pants, the sheer layer of sweat glistening on his forehead, "takin' me so well, see?" he thrusts even harder, and it takes everything in you not to scream out loud in pleasure. it's just so much—but it's so fucking good.
your nails dig into his forearm where you're grabbing on, "there's no need—ah, fuck, no need to deny you want my cock, baby"
you feel the pressure tighten in your belly, and it only takes a few more thrusts before you're crying out, cumming on his cock.
“so fuckin’ warm,” he grunts, “gonna fill this pretty pussy up,”
his movements don't stop even when he spills deep inside you with a long groan, filling you all the way to the brim with his warm release.
your body falls limp over the bathroom counter, tired and all fucked-out. you feel like your world is spinning as both of you take this time to catch your breaths, basking in the afterglow.
he chuckles, breathless with a wide grin on his face, “maybe we should play more poker, huh?”
you lift your head to look at him through the mirror, “so there's a next time?” you ask playfully.
he pulls your panties up for you, smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress, “don't act like you didn't enjoy this.”
“i don't mind a next time,” you say quietly, standing up and turning around, “i was kinda hoping this wouldn't be a one-time thing.”
he smiles softly at you and cups your cheek with one large palm, “anything you want, baby.”
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feedback and reblogs are appreciated <;3
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beanghostprincess · 5 months
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headcanon that actually sanji's eyes are each of a different color (like, blue and soft brown kind of very yellowish. heterochromia is beautiful like that) and after the time skip, when he changes his hairstyle, nobody actually notices because after 2 years of not seeing each other of course they wouldn't remember his eye color. and he actually prefers it this way because he can't deal with them laughing about it now.
but then, one night, when usopp and him are on night guard together for the first time in ages (they're both pining idiots and lost the chance to confess when sabaody happened) usopp won't stop staring at him, focused on his eye, specifically. sanji takes a drag of his cigarette and he feels himself getting more nervous by the second. "is the smoke bothering you or-"
"no!" usopp replies a bit too fast, blushing and instantly bringing his hand to the back of his neck, looking around to avoid sanji's face for a while. "i was just thinking..." he takes a deep breath, and goes back to looking at sanji. the cook won't stop thinking about how long the sniper's hair is and the way it gently falls over his shoulders as he speaks. he doesn't even notice usopp's lovesick stare when he speaks. "your eyes. i liked the blue one. reminds me of the sea."
sanji's heartbeat stops for a second there, and he almost chokes on the smoke but covers it with a dry laugh. "so this one isn't pretty enough for your liking, then?" he tries to sound sarcastic and prays for usopp not to notice the way his voice falters with fear.
usopp's eyes are wide open. "of course it is! it's- it's pretty. really... pretty." the sniper feels his body shaking as he tries to fix what he said. they're both acting stupid, blushing and trying not to seem too focused on the other. but it's not like neither of them can hold back from staring at each other. silence comes, and somehow usopp has the courage to smile. "it's just like sand. or gold."
"that's the best metaphor you can come up with, longnose?" he says this as if he wasn't on the verge of tears.
the sniper shrugs his shoulders. "why would you cover one? together they'd be, you know, like the beach. sand, gold, the sea... it's- um- cool."
sanji raises his eyebrow at that, and scoffs as he takes another drag of his cigarette. he doesn't want to finish it that early, or he won't have anything to do with his hands later. "i wouldn't hear the end of it if i did."
"but they're beautiful!" usopp insists. they've been sitting closer and closer.
beautiful.
something inside of sanji breaks after hearing that word, looking up at the night sky for a moment with a bittersweet smile. "well, men aren't supposed to be be-"
"why not?" that catches him off guard. usopp's decisive eyes meet his. the sniper's hand is shaking, but he still makes an effort to touch sanji's hair ever so slightly, thinking twice about it. their faces are so close sanji refuses to smoke in case he burns usopp. "can i?"
sanji looks around for a few seconds, and thinks about refusing. about denying him the chance to see his face completely. to witness what he truly looks like. but he nods, anyway. "you tell somebody about this and i murder you. they haven't noticed yet."
usopp hums at that, a tiny, excited smile showing up on his lips. "because they don't pay attention to you. only an idiot wouldn't be able to notice."
"maybe you pay too much attention to me." and it kind of sounds like 'i don't deserve that you do'.
but usopp finally moves his hair to the side, and the way his breathing twitches says 'you deserve everything. you're everything' and the sniper kind of hopes he hears it. usopp takes a deep breath, letting his other hand travel to sanji's face so he can hold it better. the cook grabs him by the wrist but keeps it there.
they're both shaking.
sanji lets out an embarrassed laugh, something that usopp has never heard coming from him. "not that cool when you see both at the same time, huh? the eyebrows are also-"
"you're gorgeous."
before any of them can panic at usopp's sudden comment, sanji's grip on his wrist tightens. usopp notices, looking down at his lips for a second, going back at his eyes again.
they keep looking at each other for a while, realizing that usopp is kind of almost on top of sanji at this point, and that neither of them wants the other to move away. they just want- need each other closer.
sanji is so overwhelmed by his words he isn't sure of what to say, so he just slides his hand to grab usopp's tightly. beautiful. gorgeous. it's breaking him. it's too much. and yet, he wants more.
"can you- say it again?"
"you're beautiful." he breathes out. "gorgeous. the prettiest person i've ever-"
"oh, shut up!" sanji can't help but laugh at the exaggeration, but usopp is completely serious.
oh, fuck, he's being completely serious. because the sniper is now too close to him, and he isn't smiling anymore. "can i draw you someday?"
and perhaps it's the butt of the cigarette burning his fingertips, but he feels brave enough to lean into usopp. "can you kiss me first?" and it comes out instinctively.
the way the sniper jumps a bit, surprised at his words is endearing enough for the cook to smile right away. "what? yes? yes. of course. yes. yea-"
it's sanji who kisses him.
and he thinks, while all the ashes fall completely on the deck, that he'll keep covering one of his eyes. not because he doesn't think they're beautiful enough to be seen. not because he's ashamed.
he just doesn't want usopp to get used to them. he wants him to draw him and kiss him and hold him like this forever, every time he sees both of his eyes and eyebrows, like the first time. forever. and besides, the sniper is right. the others didn't even notice. perhaps they will after a few more days of being together, but for now?
maybe sanji really, really likes the fact that usopp is the only one that pays this much attention to him.
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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 3 months
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Ikemen Villains - Harrison Gray
This is simply a fan translation and is not intended as a replacement for the game. Expect grammatical errors.
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Tall man: "You're unlucky to witness our deal like this."
Kate: "Let me go!"
Round-faced man: "There's no way we can let you go after seeing everything."
Today is December 31st.
I was helping with the preparations for the countdown party at the castle. But I got lost on the way to the store and witnessed a suspicious deal involving two men.
I ended up getting caught, and now my hands and feet were tied.
(I need to escape!)
Recalling the escape method I read in a detective novel I borrowed from Harry, I subtly move my hands to gradually loosen the ropes without the two men noticing.
(I need to find an opening and get out of here!)
Round-faced man: "Hmm? Who are you people?"
Suddenly, one of the men called out to the entrance of the warehouse, and standing there was一
Kate: "Harry, Liam!?"
Liam: "Ehh!? They've got Katie!"
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Harrison: "Why are you here?"
Harry and Liam, seeing me tied up and lying on the ground, widened their eyes in surprise.
Since I had just been captured a moment ago, they probably didn't even know that I’d been kidnapped.
(Did the two of them come here as part of the Crown's mission?)
(I think they were supposed to bust an illegal drug deal today. So are these guys the culprits?)
Round-faced Man: "Do you guys know this woman? If so, it'll make things easier."
One of the men pointed a gun at me.
Tall man: "If you care about her life, then drop your weapons."
Harry and Liam held their breath at the man's threat and tried to put their weapons on the ground.
Kate: "Wait!"
I quickly raised my voice to stop them.
Round-faced man: "What's with you? Do you want to get killed?"
Kate: "This gun is real. It's loaded and dangerous, so you guys could get killed!"
Round-faced man: "Ha?"
Kate: "Drop your weapons quickly! These two also have other weapons!"
Liam: "What's wrong, Katie? We obviously intended to do that."
Harrison: "I see. Got it."
After hearing my words, Harry pretended to place the gun on the ground and then shot the men.
Tall Man: "Gah! It hurts!"
With precise control, each of the two men was shot in the leg and arm.
Although it wasn't life-threatening, their injuries prevented them from fighting.
Round-faced man: "What do you think you're doing? Do you not care about this woman's life!?"
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Harrison: "Sorry, but your threat won't work. That gun is fake, yeah?"
Round-faced man: "Why you...!"
Tall Guy: "Damn it! We're at a disadvantage now. Let's scram!"
The two men, protecting their injured legs and arms, fled from the warehouse through the back door, leaving me behind.
Harrison: "Are you okay?"
Harry quickly ran over and helped me up.
Kate: "Yes, thank you for helping me."
With Harry's assistance, I finally freed myself.
Liam: "I'm glad you're safe."
Liam: "But I was surprised when Harry suddenly shot those guys, even though you were being held hostage."
Harrison: "Their gun was fake."
Liam: "Huh? Does that mean..."
Kate: "Yes. Everything I said was a lie."
They couldn't really harm me, as the gun they pointed at me was fake and they didn't have any other weapons.
To convey that information, I deliberately shouted the opposite to make Harry see through the lie.
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Harrison: "You didn't tell the truth to catch the opponent off guard, right? Well done."
Kate: "I didn't want to be a burden to the two of you while being captured."
Kate: "But they escaped, so we need to catch them quickly!"
Harrison: "They're injured. All we need to do is follow the bloodstains."
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The blood droplets eventually split into two paths, so Liam and Harrison decided to split up and pursue each trail.
After a while, Harry and I arrived at the market.
Perhaps because it was close to midnight, the market was bustling with people eager to watch the fireworks for the New Year.
Kate: "Harry, over there!"
Amidst the crowd, we saw a tall man with an injured leg dragging himself away. Before we could even catch up, a carriage stopped at the man's side.
It didn't look like a regular public carriage but a privately arranged one.
Harrison: "So there were others in your group, huh?"
There's no way we can catch up with them if they get on the carriage.
I hurriedly looked around but could not find any other carriages.
Kate: "We can't catch up on foot. We have to give up the pursuit for now."
Harrison: "No, there's still a way."
Saying that, Harry took out his pistol and aimed it at the carriage.
Harrison: "If I aim for the wheels, it will stop."
Kate: "But shooting a gun in the middle of a street like this?"
The Crown is a secret organization under the edict of Queen Victoria.
Their existence and their evil deeds should not be noticed by the general public.
Harrison: "No one will notice. After all, it's almost time."
As if to dispel my anxiety, Harry smiled nonchalantly.
Kate: "Almost time?"
Townspeople: "10! 9! 8!"
As I was about to ask, I heard loud voices counting down.
(Could it be?)
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Harrison: "3, 2, 1!"
A dull roar shook our bodies.
It wasn't the sound of Harry's gun, but the sound of fireworks being set off to celebrate the new year.
I was momentarily distracted by it, but when I looked back, I saw the carriage overturning, its wheel distorted by a bullet.
Kate: "You timed it with the New Year's fireworks!"
Timing the gunshots with the sound of fireworks made it less likely for the gunshots to be noticed. Moreover, people were looking up at the sky, making it easier to overlook what happened on the ground.
Harrison: "They say the best place to hide a tree is in a forest, but..."
Kate: "W-What's wrong? Is there a problem?"
Harrison: "I just thought I turned something you were looking forward to into a bloody memory."
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(Come to think of it, I did mention before that I wanted to spend the countdown with him this year.)
(I'm glad he remembered my words.)
Kate: "Hehe. It's a little disappointing, but it was a countdown I'll never forget."
Kate: "Let's make next year's countdown even more wonderful, Harry."
Harrison: "The bar has been raised, huh? Well, I guess it's fine."
Afterward, we were able to safely capture the man from the carriage and hand him over to William, who said he had things to ask the man. After having the meal prepared by Victor, we finally returned to our room and took a breather.
Kate: "The first day of the new year was quite an ordeal."
Harrison: "The season doesn't matter when it comes to our duties. But if I could wish for something, it would be to spend more time with you this year."
I widened my eyes, surprised by his unusually straightforward wish. Sensing my reaction, Harry mischievously smiled.
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Harrison: "Now, was that a lie or the truth?"
Kate: "I believe it was the truth. And if those words were a lie..."
Harrison: "Yeah?"
Kate: "I will stay with you so you will feel the same way."
Kate: "I'll do my best to make sure your lies change."
Harrison: "Heh? But that effort might not be necessary."
With a few words, Harry pulled me in and kissed me.
It was a sweet kiss that proved his wish was really true, capturing me and not letting go.
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maple-the-awesome · 7 months
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You Sacrifice Yourself for Them Part 2/3
Part 1 || Part 3
Pairings: Four, Hyrule, & Warrior x GN Reader
Requested by anonymous: HIIIII OMG I JUST WANRED TO SAY i lovelovrloveloveeeee the way you write so much!!!!!!! ur recent loz post had me kicking and squealing in my sear hehehe T_T could i request a scenario with the chain in a situation where the reader sacrifices themselves to protect the boys? im imagining things begging the enemy to take them instead, protecting them from a hit or even something funny like taking the blame for a mistake they made!!! id love to see some angst from you!!!!! THANK U AND HAVE A GREAT WEEK!!!!!💖💖💖💖
Zelda Masterlist 💙 Fandom Masterlist
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A surprise attack - that's what had awaited the group. They had their guards only slightly down, still keeping an ear for danger, yet that didn't do much to protect them from the onslaught of monsters who soon surrounded everybody faster than anyone could draw their swords.
It wasn't a huge deal at first, at least for ten seasoned heroes. They've been in troubling situations before, both during their own journeys and when together, so they all know how this sort of thing works, in fact some were even having fun with it, making a competition out of how many enemies they could each take down. Then everything went south - fast, too.
That troublesome lizard the Chain has been tracking for weeks - or has it been months now? - appeared without a sound onto the battlefield, going successfully unnoticed amongst the chaos as he creeped through the shadows waiting for an opportunity to strike. Everyone had gotten pretty spread out from each other, pushed apart by their enemies not that they took the time to notice nor worry. This meant the lizard could've realistically chosen anyone as his victim, it was dumb luck that his eyes landed upon Four who was finally beginning to break a sweat as he tried to one-up a Moblin.
Maybe a second passed between that Moblin disappearing into purple smoke and a blur entering his vision. All Four knew for certain was that he just barely blocked the lizard's sword which had been swung his way with such force that it knocked him off his feet. He's been knocked down before, though, and planned to fight without hesitation until -
"- GET AWAY FROM HIM!" It was you. Four didn't even realize you were so close and before he could object, you were engaged in your own little battle with that lizard, successfully drawing its attention away from your downed friend, however your efforts were not without cost. 
You got hurt. Bad, too (although Four would say any injury is horrid if felt upon your skin). You were thrown to the ground just like he had, the difference being you weren't as fortunate as to block the lizard's sword, rather taking a direct hit which sent you crumbling to your knees. Any other day, Four would've been amazed by your determination when you still tried to stand your ground with a wobble, but it was no time to be in awe of your skill. He doesn't doubt that if it wasn't for Warrior and Twilight taking on the lizard next, you wouldn't have won that battle you so desperately fought.
Now Four feels as if his breath is caught in his throat while he stands by, helplessly watching as Hyrule heals you. You're in better spirits than he thinks you should be, awake and alert, but winching in hissed breaths whenever moving too quickly. He can't help feeling responsible for this, cursing himself for not having seen that lizard earlier. If he had, he would've been able to hold his own ground better, giving you no reason as to rush in so suddenly. Of course, you have a different outlook on the situation:
"I hope you aren't kicking yourself too hard over there, Smithy," It's like you can read his mind - or perhaps you can just read his facial expression. You raise an eyebrow at him almost teasingly as if your tunic isn't stained in your own blood, "I was the one who decided to jump in, you didn't ask me to - and I'd do it again if it means you're safe, just so you know."
Four huffs from where he sits mere inches away from you. Simply happy to see you alive, he didn't have time to care about the fact that he’s been holding your hand nonstop since first getting you out of the fray which had been a good ten minutes ago, "Shouldn't I be the one saying that, not the other way around? What is this, the second time you've saved my butt?"
"I don't think you almost falling off a stool counts," You argue, but after a moment of thought, you give his hand a squeeze, your voice a bashful whisper, "...And who says we can't both say it, hmm? Both be willingly to protect each other with our lives?"
"Because then it would be contradictory - If I'm willing to die for you and you're willing to die for me, then we'd both die" 
"At least we'll still be together.”
Four frowns, but to your surprise, he proposes no argument. He instead nods eventually, squeezing your hand back as he looks off across camp in silent thought, “...I guess that’s logical. I’d just prefer we stay together in life, though.”
"You guys are sappy as hell."
"Shut up Legend."
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You've had a well deserved afternoon of peace - at least the best you can probably wish for given the circumstances. You don't necessarily have a lot of scented soaps on hand or even access to a proper bath for that matter, and despite being near a town, you’ve been rationing your rupees since it’s slim pickings collecting them from only monster drops and those clay pots everyone fights over. Still, you did manage to sneak away from all the boys for some time alone, soaking in one of the nice little hot springs found around Death Mountain.
Still patting your hair with your now damp towel, you wander back into camp with dreams of a pleasant meal to finish your day with, after all this is Wild's universe, so you would think he'd know the area well enough to bless you all with something wonderful made from nearby resources. With this said, you're pretty surprised when your nose scrunches up in disgust upon a disastrous smell filling your nostrils. 
It doesn't take long to notice the source, having to push through a few bodies to discover what everyone is glaring at: a pot of bubbling soup of a color you hadn't realized could even exist...and a texture you wish you didn't know existed.
"What happened?" You whisper to Legend who's closest to you. He shrugs as if this sight isn't all that bad, although you're certain he's already thought of some excuse that can get him out of eating tonight.
"Hyrule messed with Wild's cooking again."
"How? Wild's been watching him like a hawk since the last time."
"He wasn't here. He came down to the shops to get some things and when we all walked back together, we found the food like this."
Oh yeah. You remember now. Having overlooked an ingredient for his soup, Wild decided to run down to Goron Town where the others had already gone for a quick supply run and to question locals about weird portals. Soon after he left, the Traveler promised to watch over camp while you went to check out the hot springs as you’ve been dying to do. During your excitement, it failed to cross your mind that he’d be left unattended with Wild’s half-finished food.
"What did you add?" Wild has a hand on his hip, the other holding a ladle that's pointed directly towards Hyrule's chest accusingly as the poor boy sinks into himself, trying to stumble out a response. 
This is far from the first time he’s messed with cooking despite everyone agreeing he should be banned from so much as touching a spoon, yet you can’t help feeling bad for the hero regardless of his bad habit in not keeping his curiosity under control. Hyrule did help you today. If it wasn’t for his kind offer to watch over camp on his own, you would’ve had to put off visiting the hot springs until the others camp back, drastically lowering your chances of being able to sneak away for some alone time. 
“I’m the one messed with the soup,” All eyes are suddenly on you, not a single one looking convinced, but you continue anyways, “You said that you thought it needed ‘a little something more’, so I figured I’d try to help with that. I didn’t expect my additions to cause such -...mildly repulsive results…I’m sorry, Wild. I’ll remake dinner tonight if you want.”
Wild narrows his eyes, humming in thought for a good few seconds before announcing, “I don’t believe you! But…”
He then turns on his heel, dramatically dipping his ladle into the soup. The quote-on-quote ‘liquid’ doesn’t drip back into the pot once he brings up a ladle-full, instead sticking to the utensil before flopping into the soup with a heavy ‘splash’, “...I might be able to fix it if I add more broth - but this is the last warning I’m going to give: the next time anyone tampers with my cooking, I’ll only be making food with a jar of goron spice added in from then on, you hear?!”
Everyone is quick to agree, although Hyrule shows some brief hesitation until you elbow him roughly in the side. At that point, he eagerly nods, giving Wild a little piece of mind as he tries to figure out how to fix this dinner ‘you’ve’ so cruelly ruined.
“...Thank you for that,” Hyrule whispers to you, bashfully joining you beside fire as you lean back and shrug casually, “I really owe you this time.”
“Eh, don’t mention it. I already owed you for allowing me a nice break,” You nod your head towards the path that leads to the hot springs before peeking open an eye and glaring at him, your voice suddenly stern which sends shivers down his spine, “But seriously, dude, do. not. touch. Wild’s cooking again. Forced to eat meals laced with goron spice is where I draw the line in my love towards you.”
“N-Noted.”
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No matter how tightly he squeezes his eyes shut, all Warrior can see among the darkness is stars that seem to glow brighter whenever another wave of pain shoots through his nervous system. He'd like to say he's had worse, although this is truly in his top five - maybe even top three. He can't adjust his body without grinding his teeth, yet he tries anyways, digging the end of his sword into the ground and using it as support to get himself up, but each inch he moves is agony to his battered body.
The moblin - if he remembers correctly, it's from Sky's universe - follows the bloody trail that had been left behind after it had previously tossed Warrior, stalking closer to the downed hero who can only curse his luck. Of course something like this happens on his turn to patrol. He shouted for help not long ago, although given the distance he's gone from camp, it's fairly possible no one heard. Even with the moblin raising its spear, he finds himself more concerned with the others than himself, praying to Hylia they don't get ambushed like he had -
"- HEY! OVER HERE YOU OVERGROWN PIG!" The moblin pauses, forced to turn its entire body to see where the voice had come from. This allows Warrior to see around it, spotting you running towards them with your sword drawn. He might've been relieved at this point if not for quickly noticing the fact that you're completely alone.
"N-NO! Don -...DON'T!" Warrior tries his best to stand up and reach for his sword, however he immediately crumbles onto his knees, hissing in pain as his free hand hurries to cover his wounded side. 
You don't listen, although you most likely didn't even hear him, too busy going face-to-face with the moblin. It reacts to your charge by holding its shield out in front of itself, yet you take no issue in running right up it, stepping onto the top edge which you use to kick yourself into the air over the moblin's head. You successfully catch yourself on your feet behind and, before it can recover from this surprise, you attack, hitting the monster as many times as you can manage. 
It cries out and angrily swipes its spear towards you (while Warrior holds his breath in worry), but even then you're faster, swiftly leaping out of harm's way and slicing its side in return. The moblin huffs, raising its spear to throw, however it stalls, eyes rolling back into its head before blood loss finally overcomes it, causing it to crash into the ground with a loud 'THUD'.
"Warrior!" You take no time celebrating your victory, hurrying to your friend where you fall to your knees and immediately begin looking over his injuries. His tunic is soaked in crimson at this point particularly around his side, making it difficult to pinpoint the exact damage. You curse yourself for not having gotten here sooner even though you truly did run as quickly as your feet could carry you after hearing his distressed shouts for aid. Thank Hylia you happened to have been foraging not too far away. If you had stayed in camp with the others, you would've surely lost a beloved member of your group.
"Here. Stay still," You order, reaching into your pocket and uncorking a bottle you kept there. A pink glow is free to flutter out and to your friend, practically dancing over his wounds in careful work that brings instant comfort shown through his sigh.
"...Why'd you do that?" Warrior wonders aloud, earning a confused look from you.
"Would you rather me have dragged you back to camp for Hyrule -?"
"- I mean why did you take on that moblin like that? Alone no less."
You huff, taking offense despite knowing full well that he isn't insulting your skill. He’s just terrible at wording stuff (all Links are), "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to steal your thunder there. I was only thinking it would be better to save your dumb butt than to take my time personally gathering an army to collect your corpse afterwards.”
Warrior clicks his tongue, forcing his eyes away from you, "...I'm thankful, don't get me wrong, but it was still incredibly stupid...You could've gotten just as hurt as me..."
"Hypocrite," You huff under your breath, although he still hears and pouts as a result. Gently, you take his chin, directing him to face you again, "I get that you're a captain and all, thus you feel responsible for protecting others, but there's nothing wrong with admitting defeat and trusting someone else to take charge if necessary. Your ego isn't worth your life, after all, I’ll only mourn one of the two.”
Warrior blushes, trying to look anywhere except your eyes, yet you refuse to let him do so, too amused by his adorable embarrassment to let go of his chin right away.
"I...I suppose you're right."
"I always am."
"...I'll be sure to remember that from here on out."
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canirove · 2 months
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My neighbour Rúben | Chapter 3
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"Aww, sweetheart. I'm so glad you were able to come" grandma said, giving me a hug.
"I would not miss grandad's birthday for anything in the world."
"Not like your father" he said, also hugging me. The moment my dad knew I was coming back to London, he suddenly had an important meeting to attend and he couldn't join us all to celebrate. "He is a coward. Not being able to face his own daughter..."
"Let's leave that conversation for another day, shall we?" grandma said. "Today is a day to celebrate that she has a new job. C'mon, tell us everything about this Spanish girl. Is she posh? Where is the kid's dad?"
"Yes, share all the gossip with your grandma" grandad laughed, sitting down on his big chair.
"She isn't posh. Everything Lucy has is because she's worked her ass off to get it. Language, sorry."
"Don't worry, darling. Living in the North does that to you" grandma said, making grandad snort.
"We also swear on this part of the country, you know?" he said.
"Whatever" grandma replied, rolling her eyes. "What about the dad? You didn't mention anything."
"She divorced from her husband last year. Well, they actually are still divorcing, there is nothing official. But they went their separate ways a year ago."
"A divorce lawyer getting divorced. Funny" grandad said.
"Getting a divorce is never funny. Especially when there is a child involved. How is she dealing with it?"
"Julia is ok. Her dad also is a lawyer, so she is used to only seeing him from time to time."
"That is so sad... But what happened? Why did they get a divorce?"
"You are so noisy" grandad chuckled.
"I just want to know who is the woman my granddaughter is working for!"
"And knowing the reason why she got a divorce is important because..."
"Because!" she said. 
"I don't know why she is divorcing from her husband. We don't know each other that well just yet" I shrugged. Which was a lie. Lucy and I had instantly connected and shared all our dramas with each other.
"Anyway, let's talk about more important things" grandad said before grandma could ask anything else. "You are coming to the game tomorrow, aren't you?"
"It is your birthday present, grandad. Of course I am." He's been an Arsenal fan since he was a little kid, and every time my father allowed it, he would take me to one of their games. Tomorrow they are playing against one of the big ones, Manchester City, and he wants me to go with him. I don't follow football that much, but I always enjoy going to the games and spending some time just the two of us.
"Oh, yes. And Robert is taking his grandson with him too. When was the last time you saw Harry?" grandma asked.
Harry... The grandson of my grandad's best friend, the one they've wanted me to marry since we both were kids, and also the one who tried to kiss me the last time we saw each other, getting a punch on the nose as an answer. 
"I can't remember when I last saw him" I lied.
"Well, I'm sure he is looking forward to seeing you" grandma said. 
━━━━━━❃━━━━━━
"This can't be your granddaughter!" Robert said when we met outside the Emirates Stadium. "Where did the girl with the pigtails go?"
"Hi" I said. I think I haven't worn pigtails since I was three, but oh well. "Harry."
"Hello" he replied, not meeting my eyes. It looked like what had happened during our last encounter definitely still was in his head. Good. Now he probably knew what happens when someone tells you no and you insist.
"Let's go inside, shall we?" grandad said. "Today is a big day, we'll probably have to wait longer than usual at the queue."
Once inside the stadium, we were seated next to the benches, getting to see the players very close, especially when walking in and out of the tunnel.
"Ah, look at this atmosphere" grandad said. "Those City boys aren't used to something like this back home, are they, Robert?"
"They definitely aren't" he replied, both men starting to laugh.
"But at least they win something" Harry said under his breath. Since he was sitting next to me, I was the only one who heard him. 
"Who do you truly support?" I whispered.
"Chelsea. But don't tell my grandad, it'll break his heart."
"Your secret is safe with me. You know I'm really good at that."
"Yeah..." he replied, his ears turning bright red. 
The first half of the game was just City attacking and Arsenal trying to defend themselves, somehow making it to the half-time with no goals on any side. As the players started walking towards the tunnel, there was one that caught my attention, one that was arguing with another teammate. Before he disappeared, he looked up, our eyes meeting just for a brief moment, and I could swear I had seen him before. But where? On tv? Online? There was something too familiar about him to be just a complete stranger.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Harry said.
"What?"
"You are completely gone, definitely thinking about something."
"It's just that a City player looked familiar. I guess I've seen him somewhere before."
"Maybe out in Manchester? You live in the same city."
"I don't think these guys and I visit the same places" I chuckled.
"You never know."
"Anyway, I'm going to the bathroom. Grandad, do you want a drink or something?"
"I'm fine. Thank you, darling."
When I made it back, the second half had already started.
"Which player looked familiar?" Harry asked me when I sat down.
"I don't know. A tall one, brown hair. He was arguing with another one that looked tiny next to him.”
"Dias?"
"Uh? Why are you speaking in Spanish?"
"That's his name. Well, his last name. When City came out, he turned around and looked to where we are sitting with a confused look. Maybe he also recognized you."
"Nah, that's impossible. Someone probably insulted him and that's why he looked like that."
I had never met a City player, had I? Someone would have told me, they supposedly are superstars.  
The game obviously ended with City winning but just by one goal, and grandad and Robert seemed to be very proud about it. We were still on our seats, waiting until most people had left the stadium, when I found myself looking again at the player from the first half. He was giving some interviews, and the way he was standing while talking, made him look even more familiar. Who was this stupidly handsome man? Because he was handsome. And hot. Very hot. His t-shirt was sticking to his body, letting you see his very defined abs and pectorals. And his arms... His arms were the size of my head. 
When he finished talking, he smiled at the reporter before saying goodbye, and it clicked. 
"No way" I gasped.
"What?" Harry said next to me. 
"Who is he?" I asked, nodding towards the City player.
"Oh, that's the one I told you was looking this way. Dias."
"But you said that's his last name, right? What's his name?"
"Rúben. Rúben Dias."
Rúben. My Chris Evans. The hot neighbour. It was him. He was a fucking football player. And not any player, no. A Manchester City one. And now he was looking at us, at me, trying to figure out why I also looked familiar. 
"He's looking at us again" Harry said. "Are you sure you don't know each other?"
"We..." But before I was able to say that we didn't, Rúben was smiling and waving at me. And I was waving back, also smiling. But while he gave me a cute smile, I probably was smiling like an idiot or with the ugliest grin.
"You were saying..." 
"I don't know him. I just waved back because..."
"He's hot" Harry said.
"Yes. That's exactly why. Wouldn't you have done the same with a hot girl?"
"Maybe... But are you really sure you don't know each other?"
"I'm really sure, Harry. Stop asking."
"Ok" he said, definitely not believing me.
"Alright kids, ready to leave? I'm starving" grandad said.
"Ready" I replied. Anything to stop Harry from asking more questions, and to stop me from thinking about the fact that Rúben, the neighbour, actually was Rúben Dias, Manchester City player and football star.
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